When it comes to furniture, I’m particular to a fault. I know what I want and I refuse to settle no matter how unreasonable my demands. For a long time we were the kind of people who had apartments filled with IKEA furniture because, well, let’s be honest – IKEA is affordable and their furniture pieces are super easy to move. But when we bought our condo a few years ago, we decided to slowly replace those items with pieces we really love – like a bar cart, mid-mod teak lounge chair, record console, etc. I’m still on the hunt for the perfect couch (actually, I think I found it) and a desk with decent storage that isn’t too bulky, but that’s beside the point because today I’m here to talk about our new dining table. Which I’d been searching for since we first put an offer on our condo in early 2014.
This post was created in partnership with Bob’s Red Mill.
I had zero intentions of coming here with a gluten-free version of this recipe today, but here I am with cookie bars that are chock-full of almond flour, coconut flour, and an assortment of starches. And here I am telling you that I finally discovered what’s been causing my GI distress: gluten.
I was in denial for a long time. I thought for certain it was my gelatin supplement (because that stuff can be pretty difficult to digest) or my massive increase in protein (I recently started eating one gram for every pound of bodyweight) (I’mma tell you all about my journey into heavy weight training very soon), but nope – it was the glutens. THE GLUTENS. I spent a couple of days feeling sorry for myself because BREAD IS LIFE, THOM. HOW AM I GOING TO LIVE WITHOUT GLUTENOUS BREAD? But after a few days of zero GI issues, I realized the relief I felt far outweighed a life with gluten. I also realized I wasn’t doing anyone any favors by sitting around and wallowing in self-pity (right Thom?), so I put on my big girl pants* and dealt with my new sensitivity like an adult human. And you know what happened? These cookie bars.
This post was created in partnership with Califia Farms.
Man oh man oh man OH MAN. What an interesting 12 days it’s been, eh?
I spent the first week of #45s time in office incessantly checking the news (Thom would argue that ‘incessantly’ is an understatement) (heh). Do you have any idea what that does to a person? Of course you do because you, like me, were probably incessantly checking the news, too. So I don’t need to tell you about how it made my blood boil. Or about how it started eating away at me. Or about how it turned me into a psychotic version of myself who would spew 20-words-a-second at Mike Coffman’s voicemail at 5AM. I knew something had to give when I ended one of our solo chats with a gentle reminder that YOU WORK FOR US, MOTHERFUCKER. DON’T FORGET IT.
I unexpectedly cracked the code on coconut oil biscuits earlier this week. I had zero intentions of sharing this recipe so soon but a fierce craving resulted in some fierce recipe testing (I finally got my groove back and it feels. so. good.) and before I knew it we had five different batches of biscuits hanging out in our pantry. Which isn’t a completely terrible problem to have, except when three of the five batches are considered “mostly inedible” and your dude has given you a complex about disposing of food when there are people outside our bubble who don’t have access to food the way we do. But what’s worse – giving second-rate biscuits to houseless folks or throwing them in the garbage?