Buckwheat (grano saraceno) orecchiette pasta with broccoli. (#Fitaly recipe)
A quick #Fitaly recipe that tampers with the most sacred food in Italy – pasta – in order to find a healthier substitute.
#Fitaly Funday… it’s like “Fitaly Sunday” with your mouth full.
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.
Oh, how the mighty have fallen. (#Fitaly Friday)
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.
How to eat less without offending La Famiglia. (#Fitaly Friday)
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.
Introducing #Fitaly Fridays
Calm down. It’s still funny, even if you don’t give a crap about getting fit in Italy. BE SUPPORTIVE!!!
It’s raining pears, Hallelujah, it’s raining pears.
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.
My Pear Focaccia Creation (note: I did not use the sacred word “Pizza”)
A fun recipe for your pears AND for your marriage to an Italian man. Remember, your job is to open his horizons!
Insalata di rucola, pera, e pinoli (#fitaly recipe)
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
How do you lose weight in Italy? Piano, piano. (#fitaly Challenge No. 1)
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.
You know, you make me want to SPROUT! Kick my heels up and… SPROUT! Come on now…
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):
Sprouts! A fitting start to my quest to get fit in Italy (#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.
I remember when eating was fun.
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)
Married to Italy 