I Didn't Eat Kale Today #1

Well, what a turnaround, eh?

This time last week I published a post weighing up the potential harm of publishing a food diary and here I am a mere seven days later having whacked an Instagram filter on every one of my dinners. I had a good, long think about it and whilst I do worry that updates on what one eats can be just another comparison-stick for us to beat ourselves with, I feel like if I can indeed provide an equal and opposite reaction to the streams and streams of #cleaneating dogma that floods our Instagram feeds, then I'll sure as hell give it a try. 

So, before we begin there's obviously a disclaimer. This is not a recommendation of how/what/where/when to eat. This doesn't claim to be perfect. It doesn't claim to be nutritionally complete or even an advisable way to eat- I'm not a professional, I don't know anything but the basics about food and nutrition. It's just a way of eating that suits me: there is no emotion attached, no moralising, no extolling the virtues of one food and marking another as 'sinful'. It's a way of eating that makes me happy. I eat what tastes good, I whack some veg in there, I try to make sure i'm getting some iron, I'm adaptable, I feel full and happy after my meals and I don't feel like i'm missing out on anything: I eat what I want. This wasn't everything (DUH), just bits and pieces that were interesting. In amongst these pictures, rest assured that I snacked, I re-loaded my plate, I left crumbs, I listened to my body. Eating these days just feels nice. It feels intuitive, normal and not something that I spend every hour God sends thinking about, micro-managing, and, like I used to when I was super disordered, crying over.

I debated calling this Snackcess All Areas (COPYRIGHT LITRO ALWAYS ME), but I Didn't Eat Kale Today seemed pretty accurate because I don't tend to, because I don't really like it. I used to, of course, because all the Clean Eaters and Fitspo models said it was good to, but now that I eat what I actually want and not what people on Insta tell me to, I don't eat kale most days. And weirdly, I actually really enjoyed putting this together. It was nice to write a little diary and it made me crank up my recipe game by a whole 0.2 on the scale, taking me from the usual 'Well, I guess we're having chilli again' to a rarely seen 'Maybe we could make a different lentil dish this week'. 

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Had mid-week meet with my pals which took the form of a living room floor pizza picnic. Sainsbury's deli counter's finest Veggie Supreme, a beetroot salad, some lettuce and some tomatoes, washed down with a pint of Robinson's Fruit and Barley, topped off with half a jam donut and an attempt to asssuage each friends' varying existential crisis. Perfect.

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Sometimes turning up at the gym to find your Combat class has been cancelled is just God's way of telling you to go and drink caipirinhas. And so I zipped home, changed out of my lycra and headed to a little Brazilian place in Wimbledon that BZ and I have been wanting to try. I lived in Brazil on my year abroad and I still miss it like mad. We ate puffy little pães de queijo, veggie feijoada and moqueca. All bloody delish. And even better than Brazilian food was the realisation of how much more adaptable you can be once you leave the school of thought that being thin is your life's purpose. A year or so ago, if I'd planned for a workout, you'd best bloody believe I'd be doing a workout. These days, if the opportunity to go on a last minute date and stuff myself with beans presents itself, ya best believe I'll be there.

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I like to go for a long(ish) run at the weekends, so I fuelled up on bagel and banana (not that you ever need an excuse to, obvs) to run 7 miles and take this intensely wanky, peak-millennial, picture, feat. a plastic flamingo, 'smashed' avocado and my boyfriend's 'Jesus, Cait, please just let me eat' vibe. I reckon my intense bagel craving I think was influenced by Maverick Baking, who takes THE most aesthetically pleasing pics of her breakfast everyday, which look approximately 3000 times better than this. 

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On Saturday evening we went out for Italian food and obviously I needed my second dose of pizza of the week. I however made the rookie mistake of eating too much garlic bread pre-main course, so I had some leftover pizza for lunch on Sunday.  The bloody beauty of not having a #cheatday means I don't have to binge on food I've banned myself from, so I don't tend to overeat too much these days. I had my extra slice alongside this BANGIN' lentil and tomato soup my boyfriend made and read this excellent article about fatphobia in The Observer.

We took in said beaut of a soup for lunches at work, and tonight we paired it with these vegan quesadillas- you just fill a tortilla with peanut butter, roasted sweet potatoes, sriacha and coriander and it sounds all kindsa wrong but it was so, so right. In the interest of full disclosure, we also made this v unphotogenic salad, which required a delicate drizzle of tahini dressing and thinly sliced beetroot, but after a v intense Pilates class, I needed this from fridge to fork quicker than you can shout 'LUMBAR SPINE SUPPORT!' and so just chucked it all in a bowl and had it for dinner on Monday and lunch on Tuesday. After I told my pals that I was feeling a bit anxious at work on Monday, today I received a perfectly-timed donut delivery to my office from one of my best pals. Know that there are few worries that can't be assuaged by some deep breaths, some great pals and some thick chocolate icing. And I am polishing off said donut as I write, a perfect end to this post.