butternut squash pasta + exciting blog update

At the very beginning of 2010, I started "blogging."

And by blogging,  I mean signing up for a free account from google and feeling fancy afterward.

(My very first post; ironic that it's about "food," because I was way more into "fashion" at that point. Also, air quotes for days because...because teenager).

I was barely 18, and can remember feeling "behind" in the blogging world even then.

The blogs I followed at the time had already been around for a couple years, and were pretty, and the people running them were older, with more experiences to share, with more ideas, and more...so on and so forth.

This feeling would follow me until just a few months ago, when I realized that every blogger who can call themselves, legitimately, a BLOGGER, started where I did.

They started with a free account because they felt like they had something to say, something to share, or something to make. Among many other possibilities.

They didn't start because they thought they'd be getting paid for it 5 years later. No no no. They didn't start because they predicted gaining thousands of followers, comprised of people they didn't know and most likely never will. They didn't start with the idea that every post had to be perfect—every picture, font, and sidebar flawlessly placed. Not even close.

They started because they loved it.

That, and that only.

Bloggers began blogging because it was a creative space that was entirely THEIRS and no one else's. They could choose whatever they wanted for content, and had the say for when and where and how they would do it.

And even that might be assuming too much. Mostly, they did it because they wanted to and took the time to.

Their voices, their stories, and their consistency is what got them to where they are now; with books, and networks, and readerships, and pay.

In June, I discovered a blogger who's been around since 2009 and is a pretty household name in the blogging world, yet whom I had never heard of: The Sprouted Kitchen. (Sara and her husband, Hugh, both contribute. She's the chef/writer and he's the photographer).

I pored through the archives, reading every post (I've never read EVERY POST of a blogger's before, although I've come close) and as I did, it suddenly hit me: if I wanted to blog, it was going to require hard work and way more commitment than I'd been willing to give.

And most of all, I needed to reassess why I wanted to blog: because I wanted people to read it? Well, yes, of course, but that couldn't be the determining factor; it couldn't be the starting point. What about because I wanted to call it my job one day? Well yes, of course, but that wasn't going to happen magically. Because I loved it?

Bingo.

I needed to STOP thinking my blog should look this way or that way, stop thinking I was behind, stop thinking that in order to write about food AND faith/emotions/general life-processing that I had to choose one or the other, and START thinking that this blog needed to be the truest reflection of ME that I could give, which means totally disregarding everything else. Period.

Sounds like a pretty standard revelation, I know. But seriously, this concept hit me like a ton of bricks and I was really grateful for its metaphorical bruise.

After all these thoughts, I did something else I never do: I actually e-mailed Sara. It wasn't even an option to NOT at that point. I felt like if I didn't tell her how encouraged I was by what she wrote and shared, I would explode. And so I told her, look, I never do this and it feels silly: but what you do has had a profound impact on me and you should know, and please never stop.

I fervently wrote the e-mail at 10 o'clock at night and didn't even bother reading through it again before sending it. Once I did, I felt assured that I said what I needed to, and didn't expect much else after.

A couple weeks later, Sara sent me the nicest, most encouraging e-mail back, and I was unabashedly over the moon. It was the final push I needed to hop on the blogging train and say see ya later to avoidance and insecurity and fear.

SO.

All that to say,  I've been working really hard on a new platform for Plain Grain. I made the switch to Squarespace because for people who don't know web stuff or can't afford to pay for help (ME ME ME), it's a dream come true.

I plan on letting you guys see it soon, and I don't plan on having it be perfect, because like this journey, like life, like myself, it's a work in progress and always will be.

Abrupt transition ready go: this pasta! This pasta is from The Sprouted Kitchen (did you expect anything else?), and not only should you make it because it's fall-appropriate (unlike Pasadena, STILL), but you should also visit her site and be inspired by all that I was.

The most surprising part of this recipe was the pistachio pesto: it was creamy and herby but cheesy and had a little tang. I loved it and had no problem licking the leftovers off the spatula.

(The extra pictures down below are Sara's dark chocolate pb cups that turned out deeeeelicious, and a shot of Pasadena's gorgeous City Hall at night. My roomie and I went to an outdoor symphony a couple weekends ago and it was really fun. The one time I was MAYBE glad it wasn't too cold out yet. Maybe).

transitions + tomato soup

I'm trying my best to focus this post, but it's hard knowing which voice to use and which writing style to choose.

And now I'm unintentionally rhyming.

Yikes.

Basically, it's been a week of transitions. I am now earning my status as an Angeleno by commuting to and from work, and whoof. LA freeways never stop.

We packed up the Itzhakians' little apartment last weekend, and although I was just as ready for a new space as they were, life-changes are never one-dimensional.

They're always accompanied by different expectations and different routines, most of which are completely foggy and honestly, a little scary.

I didn't realize how significant this change would be until it happened, and on Tuesday night when I walked into my apartment after a 90-minute drive home, I felt totally spent.

The day had been a great one, too—I took Ayden swimming with my previous-swim-instructor-hat on, and watching her fearlessly put her little lips to the water to blow bubbles almost made my heart burst.

We sang songs and bounced up and down, up and down, and when I'd throw her in the air like a rocket, she'd squeal and show her toothy smile, all while screaming, "MO MO! MO MO!" (MORE MORE, MORE MORE!)

She took the ever-coveted 3-hour-nap that day, and while she did I got to work on my blog (oh, I should tell you more about that!) and finish listening to a podcast from my morning drive.

To have such a wonderful day, and get glimpses of how this move would provide so many new options for me and Ayden, but then get home and feel so drained was...sad. I felt sad because this simple, frustrating, 90-minute drive had overshadowed every other positive experience from the day.

BUT. As I was sitting on the couch, snuggling up to a mug of stress-relief tea, Ashley called me and said Hey. I want this to be as easy as possible for you. I don't want you sitting in traffic because I know how awful that is. We care about you. Here's my suggestion for making it better.

And instantly, truly instantly, I was re-energized. I felt taken care of. I felt thought of. I didn't feel alone in the chaos of change. (We also learned, you cried yesterday? I cried yesterday too! A lot? A LOT!)

The next two days, I drove to Ashley's work, where I left my truck and swapped cars with her. Having her car meant adventures for the babe and I, and we seriously had so much fun. We went to a Starbucks in this huge, outdoor shopping center where there are koi ponds and turtles and fountains and so much more.

Ayden and I shared an english muffin with turkey-sausage and egg, and while we sat on the rocks near the water, Ayden would get a bite, then -Lyssa would get a bite, Ayden get a bite, -Lyssa get a bite.

Watching her in the world is one of my favorite things right now. It's so different that just hanging out one-on-one throughout the day.

Yesterday we happened to be at the Barnes and Noble in that shopping center when Storytime was starting, so we went up the escalator and listened to Miss Jennifer reading books about changing leaves and new seasons....and I thought, ohhhh how metaphorical.

As I continue adjusting to the transitions (because the biggest one is still coming—Ashley's second baby is due in just a couple of weeks), I hope I can manage my moments better. I know each moment is destined to affect the next, but the goal is to learn how to intersect them a little more.

And speaking of transitions, the one transition that HASN'T occurred yet is the one where LA stops being a million-freaking-degrees every day and starts being, you know, FALL.

A couple weeks ago I made this homemade, roasted tomato soup (and cookies, too) in hopes of seducing my favorite season to Southern California, but it didn't work...because it'll be 100 all weekend.

So enjoy this super easy and delicious recipe, cold-weather friends. I won't be able to for another couple of months (BOOOOOO).

kale salad with lemon-tahini dressing

I know everyone and their mothers love kale. It's so good for you (truth) and it's so versatile (truth) and it's easy to prepare (half-truth).

But I really hated kale for awhile. I hated how chewy it was. I hated cutting the leaves off their stems, or buying the pre-cut kind and still having to deal with tons of stems anyway. I hated how long kale took to wilt while sauteing. I just hated how high-maintenance and presumptuous it was. Like oh hey I'm kale and I'm one of the best possible things you could feed yourself and I'm green and green is good and look at me now...look at me now...

I was getting a farm-fresh-to-you box for a month or two, and I got kale every single week. And every single week I would have high hopes for redeeming this leafy green and doing something creative with it, and every week I would end up throwing it out. It would sit in the back of my fridge, waiting to be used, waiting to be loved, but I would neglect it and neglect it and neglect it until it couldn't be neglected no mo'.

Then I went to dinner with friends + boyfriend on a Saturday night, and the place we went to specialized in their 50/50 burger...half of the patty was beef, half of the patty was bacon. (I know everyone and their mothers also love bacon, I am just not one of those people). So besides wanting to vomit, I felt helpless.

I browsed the menu for awhile, nervous I'd have to order something that would make me feel sick, and then I saw it: kale salad with lemon-tahini dressing. Kale was suddenly my best friend and saving grace and there was no way I would turn my back on her now.

The verdict was pretty clear after that; I had been wrong, kale had been right, and it was time to give our strained relationship some much-needed TLC.

I started craving the salad I ate that night, and decided I should recreate it plus add a whole bunch of stuff it didn't have. The original salad was very simple: kale, chopped parsely, and the lemon-tahini dressing. If I'm going to eat salad as a meal, it better fill me up, so I added chicken, herbed quinoa, chickpeas (protein on protein on protein, am I right), plus some shallots for a little zing.

And let me tell you, it was good. It was real good. Still chewy as ever, but worth it. I'd say don't skimp on the toppings, too. They really make it. And distract from all that dang chewing.

Kale Salad with Lemon-Tahini Dressing

Herbed Quinoa:

2 cups chicken stock (or water if you have none)
1 cup quinoa
juice from 1/3 a lemon + its zest

Dressing: (adapted from here)

1/4 c. olive oil
juice from 1/3 a (large) lemon + its zest
splash of apple cider vinegar (or red)
2 tablespoons chopped fresh basil
3 tablespoons chopped fresh parsley
pinch of dried thyme
pepper + coarse salt to taste

In a small pot over high heat, combine liquid, quinoa, and lemon juice/zest. Bring to boil, turn heat to low, cover and simmer for 15 minutes or until all liquid is absorbed.

While the quinoa cooks, prepare the dressing by mixing all ingredients together and giving it a good shake or swirl or two.

When the quinoa is done, add dressing, stir, and set aside.

Salad:

1 pkg prepped kale or 1 bunch kale, stems and ribs removed
1 14.5 oz can chickpeas
2 shallots, quartered and sliced vertically
chopped fresh parsley to taste
cooked chicken
quinoa mixture
2 tablespoons tahini dressing (I used the stuff from Trader Joe's and diluted it a bit with water for a thinner consistency)

Assemble the salad to your liking! How much kale you use will determine how much of everything else you use. As I ate mine, I noticed I really loved the chickpeas and quinoa...the quinoa is a lot of the flavor and the chickpeas really complement the dressing. It'd be good with a squeeze of lemon juice on top, too.

Basically, do what you want. And eat kale.

mediterranean chicken spinach salad

Things have been weird.

I went and saw the movie Noah last week (and despite what you think, that's not the weird part...I thought the movie was incredible), but since then my dreams have been all out of whack.

You know when you wake up and feel like you only dreamt ONE dream ALL night and it was weird and terrifying and never-ending? That's how my Noah dream was. Basically, all of humanity was dying in a grocery store because they contracted a disease caused by a popular prescription drug 8 years prior.

Of course there are a million details to go with that, but there's the reader's digest version. You're welcome.

When I woke up from the dream I didn't know where I was, and then later when I had a bad headache I obviously thought I must be dying. Dreams, man.

What else is weird, though, is this whole writing and blogging thing. I've been battling the biggest bout of laziness ever. No cooking, no writing, no creating, no nothing. Convenience has been the name of the game and it's won time and time again (read: eggs and toast for breakfast every night, which I'm still totally okay with).

Last week I started reading The Defining Decade, though, and decided it was time to make meals and be a person again. The book is about redefining and reclaiming your twenties, which doesn't involve putting everything off until you're a "real adult" at 30. No sir. I'm only a couple of chapters in, but considering it's motivated me to be here right now, I'd say I like it so far.

This salad is one I made in September and really liked. It's super easy (win), super quick (unless you're me and cooking is never quick), and super flavorful (yay)! I adapted the recipe just a wee bit (because again, still fighting laziness over here), but honestly it's an adaptation I'll probably do consistently.

I turned the chicken marinade into a salad dressing and then put everything over spinach. This is especially good after it sits in the fridge for a day or two, because, well, yeah...I guess that's the point of it being a marinade. 

I found Mediterranean feta cheese at Trader Joe's, too, so clearly I picked that instead of the boring stuff. Who doesn't love a good theme, am I right?

Since we started with weird we'll end with weird: I didn't dress the salad for the picture (there's a pun in there somewhere...) because I didn't want to eat it until later...so then I took everything off the plate and put each item back where it belonged. Weeeiiiiirrrddo.

You shouldn't do that, though. You should just eat it.

Mediterranean Chicken Spinach Salad

Ingredients:

1 pint cherry or grape tomatoes, sliced in half

1/2 cup Kalamata olives, pitted and sliced in half

3/4 cup feta cheese, crumbled

10z spinach (one bag)

lemon pepper (or black pepper and salt)

1 + 1/4 pound thin chicken cutlets (about 4-5)

Optional Marinade (or salad dressing for my adaptation):

1/3 cup olive oil

2 tablespoons lemon juice

1/4 cup red wine vinegar

3 cloves garlic, minced

1 teaspoon dried oregano

1 teaspoon dried thyme

1 teaspoon Dijon mustard

Instructions:

1. Preheat oven to 350 degrees. Arrange chicken in a single layer on a baking sheet and bake for 27 minutes or until internal temperature reaches 160 degrees and juices run clear. 

2. While the chicken bakes, prepare the dressing and refrigerate until use.

3. Mix the tomatoes, olives, and cheese in a medium bowl and set aside.

4. Once the chicken is done, let it sit until it's cool to the touch. Tear (or cut, if you want the non-lazy version) the meat into chunks and add to the tomato mixture. 

5. Pour as much or as little dressing as you want over the mixture, toss to coat, and serve over a handful or two of spinach

Notes: 

*I like to use the frozen chicken cutlets from Trader Joe's, bake them for half the amount of time, season them with lemon pepper, then stick 'em back in the oven). And if you have some leftover lemon juice from the dressing, you may as well squirt some on the chicken too.

*The original recipe calls for basil/mint. Feel free to add that at the end as well. I also imagine you couldn't go wrong with adding some cucumbers. Whatever floats your boat.

*Like I mentioned, the flavors are best after they sit. I recommend putting most (about half to three-quarters) of the remaining dressing over the leftover tomato mixture and storing it that way. It will be even better the next day.

original recipe martha stewart and blogger adaptation here

roasted chicken

This week I've been in a weird mood, which has been both a good and bad thing. The good part manifested itself in the form of wanting to cook up a storm, the bad part manifested itself in just...feeling weird! Which you can't shake sometimes...which is the worst.

Maybe my normally-extroverted self needed some alone time...or maybe I've had too much alone time (and enjoyed it), so being around people felt..off.

Who knows. But whatever it is, it's equalled a huge thirst for creativity in the kitchen, and I've loved every minute of it.

After picking up carrots, potatoes, and onions at the farmer's market on Tuesday, I decided it was time to learn how to make my favorite cold-weather meal: roasted chicken.

Raw meat (much less an entire raw chicken!!) is intimidating. Slimy and intimidating. But I wanted to try it so badly...so I said YOLO, bought myself a bird, and prepared the sucker.

I looked at some fellow food blogger's tips on how to prepare a chicken, and then I went for it. (Confession: I bought a chicken without giblets, which at the time I didn't really understand, but then I figured it out, and then I felt like a fake because I didn't actually have to stick my hand inside the chicken. That's a big first step, and I just avoided it altogether. Unintentionally, but still avoided. Oh well. Next time).

It was either luck or skill (probably more the former), but everything turned out perfectly. The flavors were there, the juices stayed in-tact despite the 425° heat, and I was left unscarred in the process. (Oh wait...not entirely true. Definitely gave my finger a good slice while quartering the potatoes. But I had heavy-duty lifeguard band-aids, so I wrapped it 'till it turned blue and all was well).

There will be plenty of chicken-roasting in my future, and I'm proud to say I can check that off the list. Any suggestions for another meal every beginner should make?