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Trade your noodles for some zoodles! Wait, what? If you’re new to the land of zoodles, I’m about to introduce you to one of my very favorite things! Zucchini noodles, AKA zoodles! Cut into a noodle like shape, either using a julienne peeler, or a spiralizer (which I highly recommend), and zucchini is completely transformed! Zoodles have completely replaced pasta in my eyes, they’re that good! Even my 3 year old nephew loves them!
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It’s exactly a month since disaster struck and now the government and news outfits have been heralding the news that normalcy is slowly being restored in the city.
For downtown Tacloban with all the piles of debris strewn all over the streets and the shuttered businesses, maybe there is a very small semblance of normalcy for the clueless. Sure, there are stores that are now opening, but things are still very far from normal, especially when one goes outside of the commercial area.
This is Anibong, one of the places I frequent during my photo walks. It is barely recognizable. Correction, it is unrecognizable. All the houses and sari-sari stores lining the street are gone.
The remains of a decent house, 30 days later. No housing relocation sites yet, no master plans for development, nothing. Nobody is running the show.
Scenes like this are kept from the local news. Everything…
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I wasn’t sure I could do it.
And I wasn’t sure I wanted to.
I’d grown used to being the curvy girl — the one with the “pretty face.” Even as my dress size climbed through my teens and twenties, I refused to give in to self-doubt. I didn’t want to focus on my weight — even though, in reality, I already was.
When I needed larger jeans, I bought them.
When I wanted to have a second cupcake, I did.
I’d gotten listless, cranky, easily tired or sick. But I wasn’t a woman accustomed to depriving herself or scaling back. I was afraid to address the issue of my climbing weight because I “didn’t want to obsess about it,” as I told my fiancé. The idea of a weight loss program where I’d have to track points — and be held accountable for everything that passed through my lips…
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Looking back on the fickle food winds of the past year, while such red hot trends from years past as organ meats, food trucks, bacon confections, pop-up restaurants, red velvet cake/cupcake/ice cream, gold leaf on food, foam and so forth begin their long and inevitable slide into cliché, I wonder what will become trendy in the coming year.
Here are some of my predictions:
• 70s/80s Food
The music is back, so why not the food? We’ve seen the comfort foods of the 50s and 60s — fried chicken, mac and cheese, meatloaf — get their glowing due in the contemporary foodie renaissance. So isn’t it time for the return of the sun-dried tomato and the re-introduction of radicchio? Quiche and blackened catfish, anyone?
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I was reminded of this post today and decided to re-up it. Because why not?
I’ve been thinking a lot lately about the broad American social struggle of the past 60-odd years, about what ties the whole messy package together. I’ve been thinking about how for the vast majority of human history, men have ruled the roost, but only men of a certain socio-economic standing — something that has varied from culture to culture (much as the ethnicity, religion, and geographical seat of these men has varied), but has always translated to “power.”
I’ve been thinking a lot about how, in this country, in this time, when white, Christian men of a certain socio-economic standing (and heteronormative identity) complain that something is being ripped from their hands, that order hangs in the balance, they’re right.
They’re right, because ever since the dawn of the Civil Rights movement (or, in fact…
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