A quick #Fitaly recipe that tampers with the most sacred food in Italy – pasta – in order to find a healthier substitute.
Quick update for my #Fitaly friends… the rest of you may read it and laugh at me and my tiny bits of progress. I shall then spit on you.
Just a quick update for my Fitaly readers here. Don’t worry, I also have a post about smashing my head into the brick wall that is Italy. It’s scheduled for this weekend.
I feel like I’ve climbed Everest. I’ve cured cancer. I’ve solved world poverty. I’ve lost ONE WHOLE KILO in a week, whilst remaining inside the geographical confines of Italy! AND, I am fairly certain I didn’t offend anyone in the process.
Calm down. It’s still funny, even if you don’t give a crap about getting fit in Italy. BE SUPPORTIVE!!!
That’s right. I’m not ashamed. I’m literally stealing the fruits of my suocera’s labor. But it’s ok, she would want me to. Remember, in Italy, food = love.
A fun recipe for your pears AND for your marriage to an Italian man. Remember, your job is to open his horizons!
A quick little healthy recipe for those of you who may be experiencing the same level of pear inundation as I am: Pear, Arugula (or Rocket), and Pine Nut Salad
Is it just me, or do actions that would elsewhere result in weight loss merely sustain or decrease rates of weight gain here in Italy? I feel like I’m in the twilight zone. Mediterranean Diet, my ass.
I can now officially report that my sprouts have sprouted, and that I have consumed said sprouts without dying. So, I think that’s a pretty good outcome. Here’s what I learned along the way (#fitaly):
While the chains of love will forever bind me to tortelli and Parmigiano-Reggiano, I feel that I must break free. I must rebel. I must grow sprouts.
My daily life can no longer support the onslaught of carbohydrates and pork that this country is wielding at me. This is my call for help. (#fitaly)