Herb studded meatballs take a dip in a nightshade free, aromatic Thai green curry sauce from https://meatified.com that will have you licking the bowl when you're done!

nightshade free wizardry

basil meatballs in thai green curry sauce

smothered is better

This simple pomegranate glazed salmon from https://meatified.com is quick to the table & a fun twist on typical weeknight baked salmon with its sweet-tart, ginger laced glaze.

it's the taste of the season

roasted pomegranate glazed salmon

blink and you'll miss it

These no bake cranberry butter cups from https://meatified.com are the perfect last minute holiday treat. Bonus: they use up those last few cranberries you always have laying around!

cranberry butter cups

so much goodness

If you can't tolerate nightshades but crave a bowl of classic tomato soup anyway... this tomato-less tomato soup from https://meatified.com will come to the rescue! This recipe has the tangy, rich flavors that you've been missing without tomatoes in your kitchen.

tomato-less tomato soup

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Seriously considering whipping up a decaf version

Seriously considering whipping up a decaf version of my Rose London Fog Latte and calling Friday DONE! What a week. This recipe is a lovely comforting take on coffee shop drinks, with a little pinky out for fanciness. But super easy to make and dairy free, too!

Snag the simple recipe here 👉🏻 https://meatified.com/coconut-rose-earl-grey-tea-latte/

new recipe // all I wanna eat right now is thiiiii

new recipe // all I wanna eat right now is thiiiiiis. Super fluffy & light whipped beanless hummus topped with a pile of chunky cut Mediterranean salad goodies. Dippers are the AIP pita wedges from my cookbook & you can snag the hummus salad recipe here 👉🏻 https://meatified.com/whipped-beanless-hummus-with-chunky-mediterranean-salad/

I've carried a single photo of my mother & I to ev

I've carried a single photo of my mother & I to every place I've ever lived for the last 20-plus years, but I've never really looked at it.

I'd tuck the blurred image - me, squinty & self-assured despite the fact that my pink-buttoned dress likely hides a diaper; her, focused on the camera, the growth of an old perm caught in the breeze around the neckline of her floral smock - away into an ancient photo sleeve as if it didn't exist. Because in all the important ways: it didn't.

It's an image of motherhood incongruous alongside the woman I came to know, later. The clouds behind us are ink-swirled, the tide so far out I imagine our toes squishing into wet sand. I wonder on what day or why my dad bundled us up to drive likely hours to find a patch of beach. He's behind the camera, his enthusiasm greater than his photography skills, as we hover around the edges of softness in the exposure.

The two of us appear united, pointing at a starfish on a rock in her hand. But sometimes I wonder if it's telling that she's not touching me at all, despite crouching down to the height of the toddler on her left.

Did she know then that she didn't love me? Or did that come later?

I remember tromping up & down rock pools on stubby legs, gathering up starfish for my pail, sloshing them around as I clambered over barnacles & slid on seaweed. The jolt of sun-warmed water on my skin a surprise after the shock of the sea.

When I returned triumphant, starfish bounty ready to behold, my dad taught me that we had to return them home. We could count their limbs and admire their colors. But starfish need the sea, he said. And ever so gently, we held them on sandy palms and let the waves reclaim them.

Staring at this photo, really seeing it for the first time, is the same for me. I see her smile without its later venom & let myself imagine this day at the seaside like it might have simply been: a time when, perhaps, my mother did love me. Once.

It gives me a few stolen moments in the seeing where I can, ever so gently with my heart, open my chubby little fist and release the memories of who she became later, like starfish into the surf of my own salt.

#operationbemoreme

new recipe // save this one for the weekend, ‘ca

new recipe // save this one for the weekend, ‘cause this French Onion Pot Roast is the gift that keeps on giving all week. Imagine melt in your mouth tender pot roast, with the rich flavor injection of sweet-savory-herbed French onion goodness, all swimming in a delicious au jus sauce that literally makes itself. Oh, and it makes your kitchen smell like heaven. Bonus!

Grab the recipe here 👉🏻 https://meatified.com/french-onion-pot-roast/

This sheet pan dinner has it ALL: 🍗 Crispy Thai

This sheet pan dinner has it ALL: 🍗 Crispy Thai roast chicken thighs
🍠 Wedges of roast sweet taters
🧅 Lightly charred onions and peppers
🌱 Creamy cilantro sauce for drizzling

That combo of crispy spiced chicken & creamy cooling sauce is killer. One pan, on the table in well under an hour and easily adapted to the AIP Elimination Phase if that’s your jam. I’ve been slowly going through the site and adding easy reintroduction recipes to their own searchable category and this is one of them. Just go to the recipe index and filter by “AIP + Reintroductions”. Yay!

Grab the recipe here 👉🏻 https://meatified.com/sheet-pan-thai-roast-chicken/

#meatified

new recipe // no bake fudgy chocolate cherry seed

I fumble the glue pot, so the spreader stays inexp

I fumble the glue pot, so the spreader stays inexplicably wedged between my chubby fingers while the sticky mass of PVA travels towards my toes. Worse: onto the classroom's story-time carpet.

My eyes screw up before the inevitable: the pot explodes child-safe adhesive all over the butt-worn fabric, like a pie plummeting onto the pavement from grown-up heights.

I hold my breath and squint, one-eyed, through the frames of my splotchy glasses. The classroom takes a collective breath & turns to teacher.

A pre-emptive "I'm so sorry!" makes its way out of my mouth and then I realize through my bubble of embarrassment that she's... yelling?

Screaming, more like. I know I should be listening as she waves her hands & lets loose as though I did it on purpose. But instead my brain shuts down as shame wraps around my face like a too-tight scarf.

Next thing I know, my legs power me back to my desk. I sweep up the plastic box - still baby stinky - & stuff my stationary in there. My fingers are shaking with what I'll later know is the kind of indignant anger that I will find impossible to summon as an adult.

I snap, pressing down on Pampers’ embossed farm animals. And I stomp with all my 8 year old might out of the classroom. I pound through halls & doors that someone should probably be watching and, finally, onto the street.

My house sits a road away, so I can practically see our near neon yellow door from here. I tuck my case to my chest & head home. Because a teacher is definitely not supposed to shout at me.

I ring the bell. My parents are, predictably, at work.

So I slap the pencil case to the stoop & circle the streets, cross an enormous busy road - at the zebra crossing, duh - and announce loudly inside the office: "MUUUUUUUUUUM! MRS A WAS MEAN TO ME!" At which point, the commotion starts, enveloping me. Man, adults are weird. All I wanna do is go home. *** It occurs to me, almost 30 years later, that I had a stronger sense of self then than I did for most of my adult life. I like to remember that somewhere inside me still is that little girl who knew what she was worth & how she should be spoken to. Especially, most of all, by herself 💕 #operationbemoreme

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