I try not to talk politics on here, but this issue must be addressed. There is currently an entire nation of foodies being inhumanely deprived of a concise, incomparably descriptive, fun-to-say word for those who love food. Think of the liberation and pride that would sweep España if food-loving Spaniards could stand up and proclaim: Yo soy un foodie. Think of how many sentences could be shortened if there existed a single word for una persona que le encanta comida (one who loves food).

That said, I hereby request that the Spanish Ministry of Diccionarios instate an español version of the word “foodie.”

End scene. Let’s get to Monday’s eats.

I received the following right-to-the-point e-mail from my lovely cousin Christina last week:

You should try chocolate chips, and marshmallows in your oats, and put gram crackers on top.

Not one to disregard delicious-sounding breakfast suggestions, I heeded Christina’s advice. Except, in an attempt to infuse this decadent bowl of oats with a little protein, I subbed her chocolate chips with chocolate nut butter.

Specifically, Nature’s Promise chocolate soynut butter.

I dipped into this last week and really did not enjoy it—but I figured I’d give it another shot.

Realizing that my chocolate substitute had the power make or break my breakfast, I had a spoonful straight-up to test its oat worthiness.

It failed. No me gusta. This nut butter wasn’t bad in the “this really isn’t what I was expecting” way, as was the case with cashew butter. It was bad in the “I need to spit this out right now” way. It tasted like a chalky, oily, unsweetened Nutella knock-off.

Definitely not oat-worthy.

And so I turned to the tried-and-true chocolate Better N’ PB.

S’mores Oats (a.k.a. S’moats)

In the oat bowl: 1/2 cup oats cooked in 1 cup water and 1/2 thinly sliced banana. Topped with crushed graham crackers, marshmallows and spoonful of chocolate BNPB.

This was fantastic. It was difficult to delegate marshmallow distribution throughout the bowl—but this just made for some incredible marshmallow madness bites.

While this was certainly a decadent way to start the day, it definitely wasn’t as filling as my standard oat bowls. I think I usually bulk up my oats with more nut butter and fruit.

When I realized I needed s’more comida, I turned to an old favorite for breakfast part dos.

Greek yourt + raspberry preserves.

So sweet and simple and satisfying.

Lunch delivered something else I’ve desperately needed s’more of.

Vegetables! Ever since Thanksgiving (and discovering my taste for chocolate), I have been lagging with my fruit and veggie consumption. So, I got in my greens with some split pea sopa.

I tried Dr. McDougall’s split pea soup for the first time last week, and I wasn’t crazy about it. However, I had another box, and, as was the case with the chocolate soynut butter, I was willing to give it another chance.

I’m going to have to stop doing that.

Like the nut butter, this was no better the second time around. Unlike the nut butter, it was edible.

Especially with the edition of these.

Love soggy croutons in soup!

I’m probably being a little harsh with the sopa trash-talking, but split pea is my favorite soup. And the thing I love most about it is its thick texture. Dr. McDougall’s version was sort of watery—with an occasion clump of pea/lentil thickness.

I did think the flavor was great, and I managed to clean the bowl. But, if you’re looking for canned split pea soup, Amy’s is so much better.

On the side, I had a toasted sandwich thin, garlic bread-ified with a smear of butter and minced garlic.

(The creepy yellow hue on the distant half comes from margarine. Gross, but I finished my butter stick on the first half, and was up against the dreadful nasty-butter-substitute-or-no-butter-at-all wall.)

Snack time featured un plato of mixed nuts, dark chocolate chips and a hermit. That lone hermit is a little misleading. Several más were had because I don’t think it’s humanly possible to just eat one. If you’ve done this, you deserve a prize.

Enjoyed atop mi laptop as I weekend recapped.

I got s’more veggies in during dinner.

Toaster green cheetahs.

Again, I cannot wait for the return of oven green cheetahs.

I found myself in a muy Mediterranean mood, so I ran with it.

Ensalada Mediterránea

In the mix: baby spinach, feta, olives, cucumbers, celery, cherry tomatoes, balls and hummus; dressed in celery salt and the usual honey-balsamic blend.

Meatless meatballs aren’t so Meditteranean, but they were amazing, as always. And I pretended they were falafel balls.

Needless to say, that dollop of Sabra only left me wanting más.

So más was had.

Con warmed whole wheat pita and queso americano.

This pita was so good! I get my pita from the local produce store because they bake it in-house, and when you get a fresh batch, you get a fresh batch. So soft and doughy.

Still, as with the meatless balls, I used my imagination and pretended it was the best pita bread ever.

I guess breakfast left me wanting s’more (I promise, I’m done after that one) because dessert was desayuno-inspired.

Baked S’mores!

You don’t see any chocolate—because there wasn’t any.

I eat my s’mores chocolate-less.

And, though I’ve realized my developing fondness for the dark stuff, there are certain chocolate-less creations I’ve no desire to change.

Amor,

Sarah

HAPPY NATIONAL OATMEAL DAY!

This, I am sure, is a legitimate holiday because it is currently a trending topic on Twitter. (Cough, follow me, cough.)

I had an epic bowl of oats esta mañana. But you’ll have to wait ‘til tomorrow to hear about those. Today, it’s all about my hump day happenings. (Side note: I secretly HATE the term “hump day.” I don’t know when I decided to initiate it into my official Wednesday vocabulary. I blame blogland.)

Hump-día (cue cringe slash giggle) kicked off with an affectionate cup of coffee. Are you trying to tell me something, cinnamon?

Hazelnut creme coffee with almond milk, Truvia and una corazón de cinnamon.

I know I’ve only mentioned this briefly, but I’ve been trying really hard to nix my Splenda addiction usage. Microwave Madness Month has made this pretty easy because, with my kitchen’s contents currently residing in my living room, I’m not exactly sure where the Splenda is. I’ve been drinking my coffee without sweetener—though sometimes with a little equally-artificial Coffee Mate creamer—and I’m getting pretty used to it.

That said, I wanted to try Truvia in my cafe to see how it compared both to Splenda and plain sugar. ‘Twas splendid. I’ve missed sweet coffee; I think I was just convincing myself that I liked plain old milk & coffee because my Truvia-enhanced cup was the most enjoyable java I’ve had in weeks.

I’ve gotten several e-mails and comments asking me about Truvia’s taste, but I want to get a bit more acclimated in my Truvia testing before reporting back. From this cup—along with my Truvia-sweetened oats—I’ve found that it has a milder sweetness than both Splenda and cane sugar. One packet of Truvia won’t deliver the same sweetness strength as a packet of Splenda; but it also possesses no semblance of Splenda’s artificial taste. So far, me gusta.

After throwing a few back, I got around to eating.

Breakfast began with this.

I heeded the lid’s advice, and decided to spread the great taste of almonds.

No, not by filling the entire, nearly empty jar with a “baked” honeycrisp apple.

Though, that appears to be the case.

I assure you this almond love-spreading had a bit more substance.

Which came in the form of oat bran in a jar!

1/2 cup oat bran microwaved with 1 1/4 cup water, 1/2 frozen banana, and cinnamon. Topped with 1/2 honeycrisp apple “baked” in cinnamon and maple syrup. And topped again with más cinnamon and maple syrup.

Much like last time, I allowed the steamy oats to melt down the almond buttah walls by returning the lid while the apple “baked” in the microwave. I followed this up with some vigorous jar shaking.

I think this method worked…

Later, as I was snacking on my newest addiction—which I must remind myself is a vitamin, not a snack…

…I received this text from la hermana.

It’s not as random as it seems. Luntz is a political strategist for whom I used to work, and Melissa—who is studying international environmental policy—likes to keep me up to date on companies/people who are or aren’t environmentally friendly. The POM part of the text reminded me that I received some POM Iced Coffee to try a few weeks back.

I went for the chocolate flavor.

This tasted like straight up chocolate milk. Someone who likes chocolate milk would adore this drink; I, however, am not someone who likes chocolate milk. I sipped my way through about half before giving up on it. Ah, what could have been…

The chocolate milk/coffee whet my appetite before I was ready to prep lunch, so I had a container of plain greek yogurt with Fiber One and cinnamon.

This was my first Oikos ever! I want to try it sans cereal before comparing it to my beloved Fage. But from what I can tell from my cereal-mixed-in version, I loved it just as much as Fage. I don’t think its texture is quite as thick, but as a base for a yogurt mess, it was perfecto.

Thanks to Kristina, for sending me an Oikos goodie bag with some coupons.

Eventually I threw some lunch together.

Between toasted Arnold whole wheat bread: roasted red pepper Sabra, honey maple turkey, avocado, spinach, roasted red peppers and dijonaisse.

I warned you there’d be lots of honey maple turkey in the near future; I don’t understand why I’m suddenly obsessed with it.

My sandwich went for the whole leaning tower of Pisa look.

On the side, I had the other half of my A.M. honeycrisp.

Con cinnamon.

And a bag of Popchips.

I’d only tried (and LOVED) the salt and vinegar flavor before receiving my samples from Corinne, so I decided to try something new. I was obsessed with sour cream and onion chips when I was a kid, like wouldn’t-eat-any-other-flavor obsessed, so I went for these.

Loved. Salt and vinegar are still my #1 so far, but these had that same amazing chip-meets-rice cake texture and lots of sour cream and onion flavor.

(P.S.—If you’ve never heard of Popchips, read their snacker’s credo. I feel like I could have written it. And I adore #7: “you’re allowed to eat the whole bag.”)

Dinner began with una ensalada mexicana ENORME.

In the mix: 3 cups baby spinach, shrooms marinated in balsamic & honey, baby peppers, roasted red peppers, avocado, celery, red onion, habanero lime salsa and shredded white cheddar; dressed in celery salt, honey balsamic dressing and FSTG lime tortilla chips.

All the stars gravitated toward the center: big mound of habanero lime salsa and avocado, surrounded by honey balsamic marinated mushrooms, crushed FSTG lime tortilla chips and white cheddar.

The FSTG lime chips MADE this salad. They have such an intense flavor that, even though I only crumbled a handful’s worth of chips, you could taste the lime in every bite.

Cena Part Dos: Cheeeeeeetahs.

1 medium sweet potato—shaken in a Ziploc of EVOO, cinnamon and brown sugar—baked at 450° from 30 minutes, flipping half way.

This one goes out to a certain snacker who deserves all the success she’s recently encountered.

My dinner beverage was orange-hued, as well: v8 carrot juice.

LIES. I hate veggie juice. (I think.) That’s orange Fanta; but it could pass for carrot juice, no?

Ok, I’m off to get my shop on. I still don’t know what I’m being for Halloween! I can’t think of anything creative, and it’s really bothering me. Last year’s costume was pretty prodigious; perhaps I’ll share some (really embarrassing) pics tomorrow. Any ideas are welcome!

-Sarah

I don’t usually venture into colored fonts, but that blue was necessary to represent my current state of hypothermia. (I hope you’ve caught on to my tendency to exaggerate, and perhaps let it rub off on you…)

I am, however, cold enough that I’ve busted out my winter warm-me-ups. If I cared to commit social cyber suicide, I’d document and share my absurdly heinous—yet effectively toasty—outfit. Think the opposite of Ms. Snackie’s nuevo outfit segment, and more along the frumpy lines of camp sweatpants, a men’s North Face fleece and dead sexy wool socks. I know, I know, I’m such a catch.

I promise I do not don this get-up when I gallivant the streets of New York; its oversized, homeless-chic glory is reserved for immediate family, close friends and boys I’m certain won’t be scared off.

Anyway, I’ve been procrastinating writing this post for a solid two hours because looking at yesterday’s food pictures are worsening my hypothermic state . Alas, I kind of like you guys, so I’ll brave the cold and do this thing.

The chill-inducing photos to which I’m referring mostly concern my morning java. Wednesday’s weather was equally as arctic (read: 59 degrees) as today’s. But, when I woke up, it was pretty sunny out. And, sometimes, I foolishly assume beaming sun = warm weather. Not so, kiddies.

Going with my assumption that we were having one of those “taste of summer” fall days, I opted for the iced goods.

Decked with whipped cream and cinnamon because I was still young and naive  disillusioned and giddy over the make-believe warm weather.

As I pondered breakfast possibilities and sipped on my summery beverage, my dear father came home from his run and informed me that it was (Kev Thug’s words) “freaking nippy out.” Initially I giggled because I’m an immature 12-year-old boy and think the word nippy is hilarious. Soon enough I was overwhelmed by a dark Zoloft cloud of sadness as I made the connection that:

• nippy is not actually a provocative word—but rather a descriptor for cold weather
• cold translates to my comfortably crisp fall day being a façade
• nonexistent warm weather makes decadent icy drinks sort of uncalled for and instantly less enjoyable

Womp womp.

Optimist that I am, I got over it pretty quickly and allowed for my decadent morning to continue in warmer form.

Oat bran, mi amor.

In the mix: 1/3 oat bran cooked with 3/4 cup water, salt, half of a thinly sliced banana and vanilla extract; on top: other half of the banana, PB&Co. Dark Chocolate Dreams and cinnamon.

Dreamy. That was my last sample packet of Dark Chocolate Dreams—which I haven’t been able to find in stores. Bummer—but not sure I’m enough of a chocolate fiend to justify ordering a jar. Has anyone tried Better ‘N PB’s chocolate PB? I see it everywhere and am imagining that it tastes similar—si o no?

At its best when the bowl’s a mess. I know most of you are oat bran pros, but for those who’ve yet to hop on the OB bandwagon, I highly recommend cooking thinly sliced banana into your bran. I’m really not a fan of cooking my oats with milk—but the melted banana adds the perfect amount of sweet creaminess.

I was pretty busy yesterday but I broke for a mid-morning snack plate of almonds, raisins and dried cherries.

I think this is the only time in my life that I’ve portioned out nuts (as opposed to my standard hand-in-the-can approach) because the almonds hailed from a 100-calorie pack. Not sure where those came from because I never buy 100-calorie anything—but I may need to start taking the portioned-out approach with my nut-munching (I don’t know why I intentionally select word combos that provoke immature smirks & the insuppressible need to blurt out TWSS). I’m pretty sure I usually consume 4x what was in the 100-calorie pack on a non-indulgent snack session. Probably not advisable.

Throwing the gluttonous revelation on the backburner, I’d just like to proclaim my love for dried cherries. These ones are from a pre-packaged bag and very good—but the best ones I’ve tried to-date are from Publix’s organic section. I discovered them on vacation in Florida, and now I have yet another reason to resent the fact that there is no Publix in NY.

Onto lunch:

While deciding what I was in the mood for, I snacked on some creepy gray apples.

…which weren’t actually creepy gray apples. They just happened to land on a fun-to-photograph red plate .

This was a crispy gala with cinnamon. Shocker. Galas are my numero uno apple. I’ve got love for some others—specifically Honey Crisps, Pink Ladies and Braeburns—but I’m very picky about my apple’s texture. I need it to be really crispy, and I detest even slightly mushy manzanas. Through my many years of apple eatin’, I’ve found that galas are the most reliably crispy. With that, I conclude my apple thesis.

For lunch I decided to dig into my bagel stash and recreate a sandwich that sort of got me through college. As I’ve said, I’ve never been big on bagels. However, on my campus, the easiest and quickest fuel option was Einstein’s Bros Bagels. They offered one bagel option that grew to be my beloved regular because it was so packed in the innards department that the bagel itself wasn’t overwhelming for a ratio-driven freak like myself.

This life-changing bagel-wich was their Tasty Turkey—an asiago bagel with turkey, a load of fresh veggies and an onion & chive cream cheese.

I’m pretty sure my tendency to try smearing cream cheese on anything at least once roots from my love of le Tasty Turkey. I don’t think I’ve actually had one since my sophomore year, so I decided to have a D.I.Y. Tasty Turkey for lunch.

I opted for one of Kim’s onion bagels—toasted.

Sandwich assembly got a bit challenging. How was I to fit this…

…plus turkey and cream cheese

…on this?

Scaling back on my already-chopped abundance of veggies was out of the question. So I worked it out.

On one side: turkey, cucumbers, onions and half the tomatoes. On the other: a generous smear of cream cheese and the rest of the toms.

Piled high, but all the goodies fit!

Not that they didn’t completely crowd the hole (TWSS, just in case you needed a reminder to watch The Office tonight… I also want to take this opportunity to say Hola and I love you to my amazing grandparents, who are avid readers and probably a little confused and grossed out by some of my distasteful humor.)

I sometimes forget why I stop eating foods that I love so dearly. This sandwich was on point. If any of you love cream cheese as much as I do, I strongly urge you to get in the D.I.Y. zone and make this. (I do wish I’d had the onion & chive cream cheese, though.)

The onion bagel was really good. The wheat is still my favorite so far because I like its texture best—but this packed some always-welcome onion-y flavor.

En route to a meeting I had yesterday afternoon, I dug into this (lo siento for the crinkled wrapper but I dug it out of my bag after devouring the bar).

Clif Mojo Mixed Nuts! How have I never eaten this before!? The bar was essentially whole pieces of cashews, almonds and pecans—plus PRETZELS! I’m a little freaked out because I sort of feel like Clif tapped into my foodie fantasies and created a dream-come-true bar out of my most revered ingredients. I haven’t had any of the other Clif Mojos in a while but I think this might be my new favorite.

While preparing dinner, I ate my weight in figgies.

Figs are legitimately gorgeous. You know they’d win the best looking superlative in fruit high school.

I currently have a loco amount of zucchinis, so dinner part I was one zucchini, sliced and grilled to charry perfection with some ketchup for dipping.

This is my interpretation of cheetahs that have ODed on green monsters . They were INCREDIBLE. I reeeeeally love charred zucchini.

So much so that I added an entire second grilled zucchini to an amazing grilled salad.

In the mix: approx. 4 cups of fresh spinach (in hiding), one zucchini sliced and grilled, grilled onion, balsamic marinated roasted shrooms, grilled cherry tomatoes, hard-boiled egg white and black beans. Dressed in the standard celery salt and honey-balsamic uniform.

The salad had an entire layer of grilled zucchini—which made it easy to get some in every bite!

And this beauty?

One very thick slice of sweet onion—grilled on each side for 3 minutes (and clearly doused in balsamic).

Last night’s perfect bite: a little spinach (just because it was there), shroom, cherry tom, zucchini, beans and egg. In other words, almost every ingredient in the salad pushed onto a fork.

I don’t know how many times I can profess my love for grilled veggies in salads before you start tuning me out—but the combo is SO GOOD!!!

I was really full, but lately I need something post-dinner. I’ve never been a dessert person, and I’m not sure when this little habit came to fruition. But, somewhere along the line, I’ve developed a “what’s next?” attitude to dinner.

At least last night’s next was healthy—albeit summery and probably not the most effective remedy for my hypothermic condition…

Creepy gray watermelon.

Gotcha again.

Normal pink watermelon that wasn’t very vibrant or photogenic (probably because it wanted to remind me that ‘tis no longer the season for H2o-melon).

It was actually sweeter than any watermelon I had this summer, and muy delicioso—so there’s a little rebuttal to NYC’s decision to skip fall and dive head-first into winter weather.

Ok, this was the longest post ever. I’d intended to thank the lovely Whitney for an unexpected Kreativ blogger award—and pass it along to some of my favorite food blogistas. But, since I’m already on the verge of publishing a novel, I’ll save that for mañana.

Enjoy La Oficina tonight!

-Shivery Sarah

First, I present to you a little more Pleasantville photography, since it got such good feedback last time

If you can’t tell, I love the color red. So much so that, when I was 13, I begged my dad to let me paint my room red. My dad—wisely considering that (1) I was a pubescently moody and sassy teenager and (2) red is known to invoke anger—denied me this decorative freedom. So now, a decade later and still red room-deprived, I channel my crimson attraction toward my food photography. If the Pleasantville pics creep you out, father dearest is to blame.

Now that I’ve professed my love for a color, let’s move along.

Yesterday morning I woke up with no idea what I wanted for breakfast. I hate uninspired mornings because I hate settling on something I don’t really want to eat. That said, I slowly (and not prematurely) sipped a big cup of coffee and enjoyed a soon-to-be-out-of-season dinosaur plum while I waited for breakfast brilliance to strike.

Well, brilliance never showed—but presents did!

Muchos gracias to Kim Bensen, the creator and owner of Kim’s Light Bagels, for sending me such a generous sample package of her 110-calorie bagels to review! After losing over 200 pounds, Kim, a self-proclaimed bagel lover, couldn’t find a healthy, good-tasting bagel that fit into her maintenance plan. So, she created her own. I’ve been e-mailing with Kim to set up an interview so I can give you all some insight into the woman behind bagel

Once I try all of the six flavors, I’ll write up a full review. But, for now, I’ll let you know what I think on a flavor-to-flavor basis.

I decided to use one of Kim’s wheat bagels for the basis of my still unbeknownst breakfast.

But before I divulge how I dressed it up and what I thought of the bagel, let me address the title of this post.

Yesterday was a day of foodie hypocrisy—from start to finish.

As a New Yorker, I always feel sacrilegious when I tell people that I don’t really like bagels and pizza. Who doesn’t like bagels and pizza? Especially NEW YORK CITY bagels and pizza. I think it’s because I’m such a fan of the innards of my eats (innards sounds so gross) that I don’t like super bready-based foods that take away from the stars of the show. For example, on a bagel, I like to taste the cream cheese more than the bagel. The same goes for the cheese on my pizza. And don’t get me started on sandwiches. I do not like sandwiches on focaccia or any bulky breads because they mess up my innards:outtards(?)ratio of preference. God, I sound like a bread diva, but my stomach just has a keen perception of its likes and dislikes

That said, I ate bagels and pizza yesterday. And, understatedly, liked them both. First, the bagel.

I topped half of a toasted Kim’s whole wheat bagel with peanut butter and the other half with raspberry preserves. Atop both halves went an overripe banana, mashed to perfection.

Overripe naner=amazing spread.

Uncharacteristic of my PB-lovin’ self, I liked the mashed banana & preserves half better!

As for Kim’s Light Bagels, I think I may have met my bagel match. Because the bagel was light—and by nature a bit flatter and smaller than your average NY monstrosity—its doughiness wasn’t overwhelming and gave my toppings their due spotlight. I really liked the texture of the wheat bagel, and I think it’d be a great sandwich base. I can’t wait to try out the other flavors and figure out if yesterday’s bagel loving was a one time fling or the start of something special… (Why is it so easy to romanticize food? Maybe that’s just me…)

Lunch was Tuesday night’s Mediterranean potato salad—which was exponentially more flavorful after marinating overnight. It took everything in me (read: the fact that my contractor was over) not to lick the bowl.

Alongside I had half a whole wheat pita stuffed with hummus and roasted corn. I LOVE this combo.

‘Twas a perfect way to make a dent in my Sabra stash. (P.S. I got a bajillion comments and emails inquiring into exactly how I acquired so much Sabra. Well, the hummus hoarding was not my doing. As is the case with my attraction to red-hued photography, my father is to blame—or in this case, thank.)

When I got a little snacky, I busted out some rice cakes to satisfy my voracious popcorn craving.

Have you ever tried Mother’s rice cakes? I found these at WF a few months back, and it was love at first bite. I’m not usually a buttah-girl, but these are GOOD.

Onto foodie hypocrisy #2 of el dia. Pizza. I’ve seen these pita pizzas popping up on some of your blogs—and, in the spirit of trying to cleanse myself of my usual pizza and bagel-hating blasphemy—I decided to try ‘em out.

Hello, my name is Sarah, and I LOVE pizza. Well, pita pizzas, anyway.

Seriously, check out those toppings.

Veggie Packed Pita Pizza:

• Lightly brush one side of a whole wheat pita with EVOO and season with salt. Bake for 6 minutes at 375 degrees. Brush & season the other side, and bake for another 6 minutes.
• Remove from oven. Top with 3 tbsp. hummus.
• Top with veggies of your choice. (I topped with broccoli, grilled mushrooms, roasted cherry tomatoes, and sautéed onions & red bell peppers.
• Top with 1/4 cup shredded mozzarella cheese.
• Return to oven and broil for an additional 3-5 minutes, depending on how crispy you want your pita “crust.”

I seasoned mine with my favorite salt-blend, Jane’s Krazy Mixed-Up Salt.

I like Jane because she can spell Krazy with a K, and she can like it. (I know at least some of you listened to Something Corporate’s ‘Konstantine’ in high school…)

Baked hummus, grilled veggies, and melty mozz, oh my!

I cut it into quarters to ease devouring consumption.

I was really, really full after dinner, but somehow mustered up the appetite for a baby bowl of chocolate raspberry cheesecake fro-yo and a not-so-baby dollop of whipped cream.

This was my attempt to ward off my popcorn addiction. But, I’m realizing, craving popcorn for dessert is probably the least of all junk food evils. Perhaps I shouldn’t be forcing a sweet tooth upon myself when I’m really a staunch salty girl? Not saying this wasn’t delish…

Happy Thursday, amigos. Almost everyone’s favorite day!

-Sarah

Of this I was reminded during yesterday’s encounter with coffee art. As I creepily creatively gazed into the motions of my morning J, the enchanting swirls beckoned me to take a sooner-than-usual sip. Curious to taste the talent in the midst of its performance, I obliged.

Bad call.

Coffee—even the most alluringly elegant cups—should never be consumed a mere 30 seconds after being brewed. Never.

My preemptive sip left me a scorned woman with a very burnt tongue. I sought out the quickest remedy I could think of, which came in the form of a heaping spoonful of vanilla bean ice cream.

Mucho mejor—still a little upset with my coquette of a coffee cup—but ready to take on breakfast.

I’d already decided on my main ingredient

el bran muffin. I love muffins (you know it’s coming… TWSS), but I am a discriminatory lover of only the tops. So my master plan was to crumble the toasted muffin top over plain greek yogurt, and perhaps jazz it up with a little PB.

Well, I had to abort breakfast Plan A when I realized this was all that was left in my greek yogurt container.

That, my friends, is a dollop (it weirdly looks like a lot in the picture, but I assure you it was a measly amount) , not the bountiful base required to craft my conjured up branny breakfast.

However, all thanks to the lingering taste of vanilla bean still cooling my wounded tongue, I came up with a better-than-Plan-A Plan B.

That’s right.

Muffin Top (the kind you eat, not the kind you get from eating) Ice Cream.

PB included. If you recall last weekend’s discovery that ice cream is an acceptable part of a healthy breakfast—for its calcium—I am happy to report that Ice Cream For Breakfast Part Dos supports that finding. For validity and accuracy purposes, I implore you all to test my hypothesis and report back .

I did make an effort to balance things out by throwing a few banana slices and cinnamon on my yogurt dollop for a breakfast dessert. A little backwards, but it worked.

I ate a light-ish lunch exactly 3 hours before yoga, in an attempt to avoid the nausea I felt during Wednesday’s class.

Egg white omelet with American, broccoli and roasted cherry toms. And, of course, sriracha.

I usually consider the cheesiest bites the best, but I sort of played favorites with the roasted cherry tomatoes during the consumption of this particular omelet.

Fast forward three hours. I’m supposed to be sitting in a 105 degree room, but my crazy body was somehow still ridiculously full from an omelet and half a pita. Loco.

That—followed by a pretty loud and painful hip pop—tore me away from my yoga streak. I was kind of cranky because I’ve been on a legitimate yoga high—but I didn’t feel like introducing my undigested omelet to a 105 degree room full of well-digested people just trying to get their yoga on.

As dinner came, crankiness went.

What appears to be a standard grilled chicken breast…

is actually grilled chicken stuffed with feta, oil-cured olives and sun-dried tomatoes.

Probably one of my favorite flavor combinations ever. You will learn that I’m mildly obsessed with both olives and sun-dried tomatoes. So, whenever they combine forces, I achieve a very distinct, unmatched level of elation.

Along for the ride: a few sweet potato fries (I may have burned the rest…) and olive oil & garlic couscous.

‘Twas a delicious dinner. And since I began my day with dessert, I called it my last meal .

I’m off to kick off the Jewish New Year—Rosh Hashanah—with la familia. A.K.A. Sunday’s weekend recap will feature some drool-worthy eats.

L’shana tova to any of you who are also celebrating the new year!

-Sarah

Monday’s 10:30p.m. dinner and 11p.m. ice cream “calcium intake” kept me full into the morning, so I wanted a light breakfast. Since my fridge is currently harboring a peach-packed produce drawer, I decided to try out this peach crisp breakfast that’s been on my mind since I found it.

In the mix: sliced peaches warmed in the microwave for 90 seconds and topped with brown sugar and cinnamon; topped with 1/2 cup plain greek yogurt and honey; more cinnamon; topped with a 7 grain honey toasted TLC Kashi bar.

On a whim, I warmed the Kashi bar in the microwave for 20 seconds. What a wondrous whim that proved to be. Warm kashi –> even more of a peach crisp taste.

One of the most satisfying DPAABs (desserts-parading-around-as-breakfasts) I’ve ever had. I strongly encourage you to try it.

My only criterion for lunch was that it properly fuel me for my second crack at Bikram yoga. My mind—and stomach—associate fuel with peanut butter and bananas, so lunch was a jazzed-up version of the trustworthy PB&B duo.

PB & Banana Quesadilla

Ingredients:

-1 banana, sliced thinly

-1 whole wheat tortilla

-2 tbsp. peanut butter

-cinnamon

Heat a non-stick skillet to medium-low and warm on side of the tortilla for 1 minute. Remove tortilla from heat, and smear peanut butter on one half. Return to skillet, and add sliced banana to the other half. Reduce heat to low, and warm until the underside begins to brown and the peanut butter bubbles slightly. “Close” the tortilla, and brown on each side for 1 minute—pressing with a spatula for several seconds on each side.

Melty PB & banana at its finest.

Halved to decrease inevitable messiness, and accompanied by fresh figs and dried apricots.

This would be the last impeccable bite. I’m still not sure how I mustered up the self-control to stop and take a picture instead of immediately inhaling it.

2 thumbs up to this lunch for being perfect yogi fuel .

***

Foodie’s Foray into Yoga – Day 2

Yesterday, I opted for the studio’s 6p.m. class because the 10:30 p.m. scarf-down-my-dinner necessitated by the 8p.m. class wasn’t really my foodie style. I figured a 6p.m. class would leave me home and showered by the not-ungodly-to-be-eating-dinner time of 8:30p.m.

Now, the title of this post does not refer to me. I do, indeed, live in Brooklyn. And, perhaps, I am a blooming yogi, but I’m no yogi yet. My title is in homage to last night’s instructor, who was the most hysterically entertaining embodiment of every Brooklyn stereotype… with a hint of yogi.

I am absolutely in love with my hometown, and I represent Brooklyn with the utmost pride. But the many stereotypes of loud mouths, cringe-inducing accents and aggressive behavior—while not characteristic of all Brooklyn residents—do stem from reality and run rampant through the streets of Brooklyn on a daily basis. I’ve grown to find this culturally-unique breed of Brooklyn-ites quite comical, though I understand why outsiders may be intimidated/offended/repulsed .

Last night’s yoga instructor was definitely of this aforementioned breed. His demeanor was far more Brooklyn than it was Bikram. He basically pimp-walked into the class—boasting a speedini and an abundance of chest hair—and addressed the class with a “Ok, let’s do dis, you guys!”

He had that typical Brooklyn “I’m talking like I’m at a Yankee game” tone, and it definitely threw me off. Speaking as one of the few Brookly-nites who bears no semblance of a New York accent (it’s weird, no one in my family sounds like they’re from New York), deep Brooklyn accents always amuse me. Throw one into a peaceful yoga setting, and the entertainment potential of the accent transitions to hyperbolic hilariousness. That said, I definitely awkwardly giggled throughout the first few minutes of class.

I tried to ignore the comedic aspect of the instructor for the rest of the class—because I knew I wouldn’t be able to focus or reap all of the benefits of Bikram if I didn’t do my best to take him seriously. A few repeated phrases emphasized his intense Brooklyn-ness—such as, “Open ya body like flowah petal bloomin’” and “Just do it, you guys, keep workin’ on a cell-u-lah level”—during which I internally chuckled. But, other than that, last night’s yoga session actually felt more intense and rewarding than my first night. This could just be because I had a better understanding of the poses and what was coming next, but—surprisingly—his unique energy really worked for (and entertained) me.

I guess this just shows that yoga doesn’t discriminate against any shapes, sizes or wretched accents .

Day 2 verdict: Still loving it, still feeling sore, still excited to go back for more!

***

I planned on having a monster salad for dinner, but I was weirdly in the mood for chicken. I rarely eat meat—only because I generally prefer the taste of veggies—but, on occasion, I crave it. Last night was one of those nights.

I cooked the (gigantic) chicken breast in a little EVOO and garlic and topped it with roasted cherry tomatoes—fresh from the garden!

On the side, I sauteed onions, peppers, mushrooms and carrots in Soy Vay—a.k.a. my a vegetable’s best friend. Soy Vay really does wonders for plain veggies when you want ‘em to pack a bit more flavor.

What a well-balanced plate! I usually prefer the veggies, but last night the chicken stole the show. So, I ate all the veggies first and saved the best for last. When you like one part of your meal better than the other, do you eat it first or last? I always get the runner-up out of the way first. Maybe I’m just weird.

Last night’s perfect bite: super crispy slice of chicken with mushroom and roasted cherry tomato. I died a little…

Come dessert, I still had my peachy crisp breakfast on the brain. But instead of repeating it, I opted for some peaches and cream. Know what I mean? (112, anyone?)

BLISS.

The bottom of the bowl ended up pretty creamless, but—remembering my maple syrup + peach = deliciousness discovery—I threw on a little maple love.

I hope everyone’s having a peachy keen hump day

TWSS. Just another friendly reminder that The Office comes back mañana!

Namaste from a burgeoning Brooklyn yogi,

-Sarah

However, working and jobless folk alike are susceptible to the lesser-known “case of the PBs.” This symptomatic condition is most easily detected by its token warning sign: an insatiable craving for all things peanut butter. Doesn’t sound so bad, does it? The seriousness of this delectable indisposition depends entirely on the duration of the PBs. 24 hours of craving and consuming PB? Sign me up. But an entire week of PB on-the-brain and in-the-tum takes its toll.

I felt my current case manifesting last night, so I opted for a PB-infused dinner.

Not the most glamorous shot, but these cold peanut noodles definitely hit the spot. Here’s my ridiculously easy recipe for this big bowl o’ PB goodness:

Ingredients:

-2 oz. whole wheat spaghetti

-2 tbsp. creamy peanut butter

-1 tbsp. crushed peanuts

-2 tbsp. vanilla soy milk

-2 teaspoons soy sauce

-1 tsp. honey

-1 tsp. sesame seeds

-1/8 tbsp. minced garlic

Simply, cook the spaghetti according to the directions on the box. Mix all of the ingredients together well. Add the cooked pasta, and let chill in the fridge for at least an hour.

I thought this was a trustworthy antidote to lull my oncoming ailment. But when (what seemed like) a never-ending bowl of peanut-buttery deliciousness left me only wanting more, I was sure I’d fallen victim to the PBs.

When ill, you must give the body what it needs. And so, I relaxed, watched the VMAs, tried not to expend too much energy screaming at Kanye and consumed a bag of popcorn. Dipped in PB.

After a very artistic and swirly cup of coffee this morning,

I’d realized that my symptoms hadn’t subsided. And thus, PB was a must on the AM menu.

As a passionate lover of oat bran—and a current craver of PB—I’d decided upon my main ingredients but was unsure of what my somethin’ extra was going to be. Then it occurred to me, I’ve never tried PB & J oat bran!

I almost always eat my oats with a spoonful of nut butter, but I’ve never actually added jelly into the mix. So I decided to grab this Monday morning by its PB&J, and just do it.

In the mix: 1/2 cup oat bran, 1 cup water, vanilla extract and thinly sliced banana—topped with none other than PB&J.

Another first? I tested out the infamous peanut butter drizzle, which worked perfectly…

and left me with that highly-coveted and indescribable first peanut butter-packed bite.

As Sheryl Crow once said, “the first bite is the peanut-butteriest.” No, that’s not right. But perhaps it’s time for a remix.

I can’t believe I’ve never attempted this foodie-staple of a breakfast before, but this will not be my last time.

I have to leave you with that drool-worthy spoonful because I have a lot of errands to run before I try out another foodie first this evening. Is the suspense killing you? A few hints: It doesn’t involve food, and it does involve the month of September.

Any guesses?

I’ll see you mañana with the rest of my eats, the progression (or secession)  of my PBs and my first foray into ______…

Hope your Mondays are going well!

-Sarah