It’s tough to truly enjoy “eating healthy.” Let’s be real here: when I’m snacking on red bell peppers and non-fat yogurt-based tzaziki, I’m not sighing with giddy delight. Grilled chicken breasts aren’t at the top of my favorite foods list. And if you can tell me with a straight face that you prefer [insert healthy alternative dessert] over a crisp, chewy, chocolate chip cookie… then you’re a very talented liar.

That’s not to say that you can’t enjoy the accomplishment of eating healthy. I’m sure that we all feel like Rocky at the top of the steps when we deny ourselves those same cookies in lieu of a healthy alternative. But being proud of yourself and truly loving every bite of whatever you’ve chosen to eat are two different things, especially in today’s health-conscious society.

I’m not going to lie to you and say that kale chips fill in that deep, heartfelt desire that we all have… which is to eat potato chips until our mouths are numb from the salt. (Or is that just me and my inner fat kid?) But I will say that if you love kale–or even if you’re okay with kale–chips are a great alternative.

I decided to combine my (relative) love of kale chips with my (undeniable) love of sriracha… and so came this recipe! It’s not rocket science by any means, but I hope you like it as much as I do–and by that, I mean that I ate the entire thing in one sitting after taking pictures of it.

Definitely cut down on that extra ½ Tbsp. of sriracha if you’re not into spice… as I’ve mentioned before, James & I are spice fiends, so my taste buds are probably a little sunburnt. The sugar goes a long way to temper the spiciness, but certainly not enough if you order your wings or Thai food “mild”. Also, I should mention that it is very easy to burn these chips–so don’t take the bake times as absolute, and do check on them a few minutes before the time listed just in case! Every oven is different.

And now, if you’ll excuse me… eating all of this kale has made me feel like I should contemplate working out…

I know that I always talk about how picky of an eater I used to be, almost to the point where I’ve become redundant. But the more I cook and the more I expand my tasting horizons, the more I realize how much I’ve missed out on over the years by being finicky. For example: this salsa would’ve been Nopes-ville for me a few years ago, thanks to its inclusion of raw red onions, green peppers and (the dreaded, soapy-tasting) cilantro. And now, I can’t get enough of it. After begging for the recipe, I’ve made it three times within the past month alone!

The reason I love this recipe so much is because it represents how far I’ve come; now when people ask me if I’m picky about food, I can proudly say “no”! Well… I still can’t stomach raw celery, blue or goat cheese… but I’m working on it.

Actually… I’m pretty sure I’m always going to hate celery, so we can just leave that off the list… please.

Whoops, I digress–let’s get back to the salsa! It’s best with fresh or frozen corn, but if you’re in a pinch you can definitely used canned corn… don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone. I’ve used both canned and cooked lentils with similar results, so long as you drain both very well. And if you’re a fan of heat, feel free to mince half a jalapeno pepper (de-seeded of course) and toss it into the mix. I prefer to leave it out in case people are not heat-inclined.

Lastly: I know that the pictures feature yellow bell pepper, but that was during one of my trial runs for this recipe. I definitely recommend green bell pepper instead.

We were hanging out at a friend’s house playing board games when hunger struck–painful and relentless, as always. Since it was already nearing the wee hours of the morning, she jumped up to take a peek at her pantry and found a bag of Sichuan peanuts from the local Asian market.

I was wary at first–I’m a fan of heat, but the word “Sichuan” (or Szechuan) has always been a red flag. I can handle spicy, but can I handle Sichuan spicy? As soon as I took my first bite, however, all of my fears dissipated and were replaced by my need to eat the entire bag. My tongue and then my entire mouth went numb, and I was still as happy as a clam. I devoured the peanuts dutifully, as if they were an additional objective to winning the game.

Sichuan flavors are bright, unapologetic and brash–the dishes are almost always spicy, but it would be insulting to say that Sichuan cuisine is a one-trick pony that only relies on heat to convey its flavor. The red oil that is so easily recognized in many Sichuan dishes is a rich mixture of cardamom, star anise, five spice and Sichuan peppercorn–as well as the tried-and-true aromatics of garlic and ginger. The Sichuan peppercorn is the reason that your mouth numbs and tingles after a few bites–hence its literally translated name “prickly ash”.

James and I found the bag of Sichuan peanuts at the store shortly afterward, but I wanted to try making it on my own–and I think I’ve found a worthy home-made alternative to the store brand, minus the inevitable MSG and additives that are usually included in most snack foods. I’ve even added orange peel, which brightens the flavor of the peanuts and adds a sharp, almost floral contrast to the spiciness of the peppercorns.

I’ve made this dish twice now, and I need to emphasize the importance of using kosher salt or a finely-ground salt; otherwise the peanuts are spicy but bland. If you want a little bit of heat but not a lot, reduce the number of dried chilies and peppercorns. Lastly, I should note that you’re not going to easily find Sichuan peppercorns at your local grocery store; you’ll probably need to head over to a specialty spice store, Whole Foods, or a local Asian market. (I recommend the latter; the prices will be much more reasonable.) This is a great snack for guests–and a better alternative to potato chips if you’re a snacker. I personally enjoy them while playing games myself… and even more so when I win them!

I stopped by the Sprouts that just opened in Westwood today and was figuratively pummeled by the amount of sales on produce. Since our spring this year in Southern California has been a bit… well, chilly for the average (spoiled) bear, it was awesome to see all of my favorite things on sale for early summer. Strawberries ($0.88 a pack!), raspberries ($1.50!), apples ($0.88/lb!)… the humble little housewife in me was brimming with excitement. When I saw that large artichokes were on sale for $1.00 per artichoke, I almost fist pumped. (I wish I were exaggerating.)

A freshly-steamed artichoke is a thing of wonder, but there is some prepping required before you can enjoy your bounty. In this particular entry, I’ll talk about steaming it—but there are other ways, such as grilling or even microwaving, that yield equally delicious results. It’s a great appetizer or low-key snack, and healthy too! The best part about eating a whole artichoke despite the initial prep work is the ‘snacking sensation’ you get, similar to digging into a bag of chips. Since you can’t jam all of the leaves into your mouth, you’re forced to eat it slowly—and you end up feeling fuller than you expected when you’re done! Just keep in mind that when you buy artichokes, the freshest ones have leaves that are still tightly bound to the center.

(Note: Since this isn’t much of a recipe and almost more of an informative blog post, I’m foregoing the normal “recipe” format. What a deviant I am!)

Ingredients:

1 artichoke

1 slice of lemon

1 garlic clove

Instructions: 

1. Rinse the artichoke thoroughly to make sure there isn’t anything caught between the leaves.
2. Cut the tips off of the leaves to get rid of the pokey thorns—I use my kitchen shears, which is much easier than a knife!
3. Use a knife to cut the top off of the center of the artichoke (for larger artichokes, usually ½ -1 inch will do). This makes it easier for you to access the center (and for the steam to reach the center as well).
4. Fill a larger pot with 1-2 in. of water, then toss the lemon slice and garlic clove into the water.  Place the steaming basket inside, then place the artichoke on top.
5. Bring the water to a boil, then turn the heat down to a simmer for ~30 minutes. Artichokes can vary in cook time depending on how large they are—I would check at 30 minutes to see if the leaves pull away easily. If they still provide resistance, wait for another 5 minutes and check again.
6. Carefully remove the steamed artichoke from the pot and enjoy!

For the uninitiated when it comes to eating a steamed artichoke:

1. Pull off a leaf.
2. Grab the leaf where you trimmed it, then turn it so that the white pulpy side is facing down.
3. Pull the leaf through your teeth so that your bottom set of teeth scrapes the pulp away from the leaf.
4. Repeat until you reach the purple-tipped leaves/fuzzy center.
5. Use a spoon to cut into the circumference of the fuzzy center, then gently spoon the fuzzy center away from the artichoke heart.
6. Eat its heart!!! (This sounds rather barbaric, doesn’t it?)

I like to dip the artichoke pulp into a small amount of balsamic mayonnaise—just 2 Tbsp. of mayonnaise mixed with ¼tsp. balsamic vinegar. But you can really eat it plain with a little bit of salt if you’d like—the lemon and garlic give the artichoke a nice fresh flavor.