By using smoked Gouda cheese, we can use less and still have a vegetarian creamy pasta dish of our dreams. Macaroni and cheese with no regret.
Oh heyyy! So where the hell have I been right? Last time I posted was like a month ago. Wellll …life happened and lots of it. School wrapped up for one kid with all kinds of fanfare. School wrapped up for me too – I finally finished the 3rd of 3 graduate courses I took to check a big ‘ol box for work (when I finished my PhD years ago, I said would never take another course. HA! just shows how much working for the government sucks).
Lots of other random do’s. All good things, just a lot of them.
And then there was the inevitable blogger mid-life crisis. Yeah, mine finally happened. A couple posts ago, I celebrated two years blogging with The Cuban Pizza (totally make that recipe guys!), and I had spent most of those 2 years going like gang-busters. …And then I promptly ran outta steam. So I took time off and gave this quite a bit of thought and have decided to chill the EF out.
Meaning simply that I am going to cut out much of the mind-numbing blog post promotion crap …and no longer care about the numbers. Because that aspect was killing my joy. And my love of cooking is precious to me.
And another thing …after half Ironman triathlons in January and March, I ran outta steam there too…
(see the equation? mental stress from being too busy + too much physical stress = Erica shuts down. …which is totally what happened.)
…so I took time off from that too (like 6 weeks), and in the meantime life went directly to my ass. Uggg. So, now I’m trying to shake off those cobwebs, get active again, and shed the resulting 10 lbs by my fall races. I am getting there, but it is suh-lowwww. I even had to give up – wait for it – beer. GASP!
Yup, because it’s hard to lose when you are me and hungry all. the. time.
So who else is struggling with their weight raise your hand! I know I’m not supposed to use the word “dieting”, but I don’t do politically correct. “It’s a lifestyle change”? Bite me. If I can’t eat pizza, it’s a diet.
So, enter pasta. When I am gloomy or stressed or pumped or sad or happy or just breathing, I crave comfort food like macaroni and cheese.
Garlic, Bacon, and Beer Macaroni and Cheese. Come to Mamma.