Guest Post: I Heart Vegetables

Hi eaters!

I’ve got a special treat for you. Today, my friend Liz and I are doing a little post swap. I figured that since I like her and you like me you should then like her. 


Yeah, I’m pretty sure that’s the practical application of some mathematical theory that I wasn’t paying attention to in high school. Anyway…



Hi Food Baby readers! I’m Liz, the veggie-lover of I Heart Vegetables.

I’m so excited I get to guest post on Kara’s blog, because she’s pretty awesome, and I remember the first time I stumbled across her blog, I immediately texted my friend and said “Oh my gosh!!! I just for a blog called “Food Baby!!!” Because let’s face it. We’ve all had them.

Anyways, I want to share my strategy for lunchtime workouts with you. Really, this could be used anytime you’re trying to squeeze in a workout, but particularly, when you don’t have a lot of time, and you need to look presentable afterwards.

I tend to have the most energy around lunch time, and my office has a great gym, so a lot of my workouts happen around noon. It can be hard to squeeze in a good workout quickly, and still look appropriate for the office, but I have a few tricks.

1. Bring flats- My office is huge, so the gym is literally half a mile away from my desk. If I try to walk over there in heels, it takes a good 30 minutes just getting there and getting back. I keep a pair of flats at my desk, so I can slip those on and speed-walk to the gym. If you have a big office (or you work downtown and have to walk to the gym) your feet will thank you!

2. Be strategic- When I don’t really feel like working out, I do the elliptical. It’s easier than running or doing the stairmaster. But that means you could burn more with 20 minutes on the treadmill vs. 30 minutes on the elliptical. Force yourself to do a harder workout!

3. Circuit, Circuit!- I know Kara has given you all some ideas for circuit workouts! These are fantastic when you literally only have 30 minutes to workout. You can get in cardio and weight training all at once! Also, planks are one of my favorite “full body” exercises, as shown above ;)

4. Pack Essentials- A mini deodorant, small brush, lipstick (which can also double for blush) and dry shampoo are all lifesavers. You also might want to pack a few bobby pins, in case you need to keep your hair up.

5. Easy Lunch- If you’ve got a packed day of work, you’ll probably want to grab something quick you can eat on the go. I like to have a snack like an apple + peanut butter before I workout, and then a wrap, or yogurt + protein powder as soon as I’m done. The snack before your workout gives you some energy, and the meal afterwards feeds those muscles!

Those are the things that help me squeeze in a good workout, even when I’m short on time, so hopefully those help!

For other fitness tips, come check out my veggie-loving antics, and my attempt at living a healthy life!

Guest Post

Hi eaters!

My computer still isn’t fixed.

I went to the Genius bar. Mike, the most awesome of all the Geniuses, and I talked strategy for a while. We came up with a game plan. That game plan involves me doing lots of technical band-aids until I can get a new computer in a month.

I never said it was a cheap game plan.

And Leon’s computer is still not working properly in terms of my camera memory card. It’ll upload some pictures (which I’d thought were long deleted) and not others. Those others happen to be of non-re-createable moments. And the things I was going to blog about.

Luckily, though, this post is not just a long-winded, whiny excuse.

Oh no!

I wrote a guest post for Aubrey (I Talk To Food) for while she’s traipsing around France. And that guest post is up.

So…go check out my post on I Talk To Food all about how my life got flip-turned upside down my house got Pinterest-ed.

(Two points if you can name where that line came from.)

Alright, see ya…soon?

Guest Post: My Friend Will Being Slightly Less Offensive

Hi eaters,

As you know, I’m currently living drinking it up in Ireland with manly friend. I’ll post about our fun times soon, but for now I have another guest post from m’dear friend Will. This time there is decidedly less gore, but I don’t know if that makes it any less offensive. 

Consider yourself warned.


The Men Who Stare At Goats:

(Boston Tea Party Edition)

Whaddya say there readers? We’re taking the blog back over from Benedict Arnold over there in Jolly Ol’ England, in the name of all things American!

We’re talking BIG trucks, BIG guns, and even BIGGER violations of PETA’s sense of decency. Well, no guns actually but we did use a big truck and boy howdy, yeah PETA would have pooped their soy-fiber pampers if they saw what we did to that little cabrito. We’re cookin’ a goat!

Why goat you might ask? Well, though it is unpopular in America and the UK, for most of the world, goat is a staple food. They are hardy, can eat any thing, can birth without assistance (unlike cattle) are small enough to be portable, and can be butchered in portions that can be consumed before any of it goes bad. They are the animal kingdom’s snack packs if you will.

Since Ms. Thomas is expanding all y’all culinary horizons with “British Cuisine” *Rim-shot!* I figured we might as well do the same, especially since goat is becoming more popular all the time in the US.

Goat’s popularity in America is increasing as many of today’s burgeoning immigrant populations from Africa, Latin America and Arabia create an increase in demand for them as a food source. It’s kind of like the increase in alcoholism and potato eating brought about by the Irish immigrants in the 1800’s. Goats are especially popular in the Middle East, and while many Muslims like goats, as evidenced by this picture, goats also really like Muslims…

Offensive? Yes. Photoshopped? Of course!

… sorry.

So any ways, we thought it’d be worth a go while Kara’s being all worldly to go ahead and try something a bit different ourselves.

And after that delightfully jingoistic and bigoted introduction… Away we go.


1967 Chevrolet K-10

Petulant ass goat

Welder and torch

You mean not everyone has one of these?

Steel Cable and Collar (goats will literally eat anything that’s not metal)

2 bags of charcoal

Speaker box with token country music

Fire pit

Organic String and a bucket of water*


*It is important to use a string made from an organic material so that if it does start to get to hot it will just burn away instead of melting onto the meat.

**Use whatever you want. Olive oil is a good base, just make the marinade a few hours before and mix well so that the flavors can ameliorate into the oil because it is going directly from the bowl onto the meat which will immediately begin cooking.


  1. Buy a goat from your friendly neighborhood goat owner
  2. Put it in the back of your Chevy (at this step you can substitute a Chevy with, well nothing, there is no substitute for a late model Chevy truck, but you could also put the goat into any other truck bed or into a sack and then into your sedan trunk. Point is, put it somewhere that it can be transported and you won’t care that it’s covered in goat shit.
  3. Put a spool of organic rope into a bucket of water to soak up all the liquid. This will be used to tie the goat to the grill, it needs to be soaked in water for as long as possible so you might as well do it first.
  4. Get home, and tie goat out in a very nice pasture and try to befriend the goat, as you aren’t a sadist and want its last hours on earth to be relaxing.
  5. Get bit, kicked and horned by Goat who apparently wants nothing to do with you, then change goat’s name from Goat to Petulant-Ass Goat.
  6. Get out the welder and torches and a good and good looking metal fabricator and have him make you a damn good South American style spit roaster to size, over your fire-pit.
  7. Start coals now, lighting a half bag full, then pouring the remainder on in half-bag increments as the last round gets fully lit.
  8. Take the goat gently and calmly lead it towards a nice grassy area with a sturdy tree branch nearby.
  9. Get kicked and screamed at and rammed by the goat
  10. Feel last glimmer of reticence towards exsanguinating the little monster drift out of your body.
  11. Once it is near the tree, take a knife and just slice forcefully across up into its TV Magic and then lets just say there was this thing and then the goat didn’t need a pulse anymore.
  12. After that tie its two front feet to the tree and sprinkle some TV Magic dust on it and there you have a nice clean, ready to cook goat.

    I told you there would be a bit of gore.

  13. Tie it to the metal spit roaster spread eagle, threading the rope through small holes you cut in the shoulder and haunch cuts. Also tie around the midsection just to support the weight.
  14. Once it’s tied on, spread the marinade all over the meat and place the whole apparatus over a nice coal bed ideally just a bit longer and wider than goat itself.
  15. Get out the beer and speakerbox because here comes the easy part: Sit around drinking, listening to music and shooting the shit for about two hours or until the bottom looks done.
  16. Flip it over until that side looks pretty cooked (about an hour).
  17. Flip to the original side for another 45 minutes.
  18. Cut off the torso at the shoulders and hips, bring the torso inside.
  19. Allow the leg meat to cook longer by putting the coal bed into two pyramidal shapes and letting the legs hang down closer to the ground getting heated on the sides.
  20. After 45 minutes, cut holes in the bottoms of them and tie a string through the bottoms and invert them.
  21. Cook for another 30-45 minutes and take them off the spit.
  22. Enjoy with just plain salt and pepper.

    "Goat, salad, and Bushmills is what's for dinner tonight." -manly friend


I’m actually pretty jealous that I missed the goat. So jealous, in fact, that I’m definitely going to try to get these men to cook another goat when I get back to the States. 

What do you think, eaters:

Have you ever or would you ever cook a whole animal?

Do you like goat?

Later eaters!

Guest Post: Manly Friend Makes Dinner

G’evening eaters!

I’ve got to say, you really make me feel like a nerd. From everyone’s comments last night it appears that it’s cool to be a procrastinator. Too bad I haven’t procrastinated anything since high school.

Then again, I probably was cooler in high school.

But I digress…

As I mentioned last night, I’ve got another guest post from man mountain for you tonight.

Don’t worry, there won’t be any skinning animals or knife-in-mouth pictures. But there will be a cute man.

AND a recipe. A real recipe.

(Sorry Will, but yours doesn’t quite count as a real recipe.)

So, enough of my gushing. Here’s manly friend, I mean Leon.


Hey bloggers,

Or should I say an official hello to everyone for the first time. Yes it is the long anticipated manly friend post. Or maybe this is the first you’ve heard about it as well. Don’t worry, I never thought it would happen either.

That's his serious face.

Notice my happiness at the idea of blogging.

Believe it or not, when I first meant Kara she wasn’t vegan. In fact, the first time we went out to dinner with her Papa she ordered a rib-eye steak, medium rare, with garlic mashed potatoes and grilled asparagus. And no, I wasn’t surprised. But as they say, I digress.

(I’m butting in — That’s not what I ate. It was a bacon-wrapped filet mignon with an herb-roasted tomato and goat cheese tartlet. There may have been some asparagus, but I don’t remember.)

As a precursor to tonight’s dish I invite you all to read the recipe posted previously by my friend Will. Tonight’s post contains a more domestic spin on the main course, raccoon. Yes, you heard right, raccoon. Although, this post won’t be as hilarious as Will’s it will however be more edible, or at least that’s the hope.

For the main dish you will need:

Two rump roasts of raccoon

One medium onion

Three carrots

Three slices of bacon

¼ cup apple cider vinegar

1/3 cup white wine

½ cup apple butter

1 tblsp honey

Salt, pepper, rosemary and thyme.

We begin with two rump roast cuts of raccoon (see Will’s post for preparation).

Next pour yourself a glass of Jim Beam (this is not a requirement for the recipe, just how I prefer to do things). You should probably start the oven at 350 degrees also.

Next, sautee one medium onion and two cloves of garlic in 1 tablespoon of olive oil.

Will actually made me stand out of the picture for this one. He was thinking on behalf of you guys.

Once the onion has started to brown add vinegar and white wine to the pan. Top with dried rosemary and thyme (hopefully from your mothers herb garden, if not don’t worry about it) and allow to simmer for about five minutes.

While onion is cooking peel and cut three carrots and prepare a dredge of:

2 tblsp flour

1 tsp black pepper

½ tsp salt

½ tsp papkrika

1/3 tsp cayenne pepper

After the five minutes, or really however long it takes you to make the dredge and cut three carrots, transfer onion mixture to the bottom of the baking dish. Add prepared carrots, placing them on top of the onion mixture.

Dredge and fry roasts until both sides are browned and begin to look crispy. This will help the juices stay in the roasts during the baking. Once meat is browned, place on top of onion and carrots. Cover with bacon strips, apple butter and honey to top of roasts.

Any applesauce or honey can be used here, I was lucky enough to have homemade apple butter and local honey from Will’s cousin.

That apple butter is addictive. Will once drank a whole jar. In the car. On the way home.

Place the prepared roasts in the 350 degree oven for about three to four hours, or until the meat has started to separate from the bone.

Half an hour before raccoon is done, melt about a tablespoon each of butter and brown sugar in a pan. Once melted, add one cubed sweet potato and simmer for about 25 minutes, or until tender.

Serve with pickled beets and an ice cold beer.

Lest we forget, fresh baked cinnamon bread with a glass of hot whiskey and cider to complete the gourmet mountain meal.

You get so many cool points if you know where the ants reference is from.

Don’t leave the cinnamon bread uncovered though. Cause that’s how you get ants.

That’s all for this first time blogger. I hope you’ve enjoyed the experience as much as me, maybe more. Don’t like the post too much though because that will mean Kara will enlist me for another of my lonely old man on the mountain ramblings. And I’m not sure there is any more room for blogs in my life right now.


By no more room in his life for blogging, he means no more room for “hipster activities,” as he and Will deem blogging. 

I don’t know if those two mountain men realize that they both just willing participated in “hipster activities.” 

M’gosh, I am such a lucky ‘Baby to have such wonderful men in my life.

Hopefully you haven’t found these mountainous guest posts too boring. I know I’ve enjoyed the heck out of them.

But really, what do you think:

Would you like to see some future posts from man mountain?

And what’s the weirdest thing (meat or otherwise) that you’ve ever eaten?

G’night eaters!

Guest Post: My Friend Will Possibly Offending People

Greetings eaters!

I’ve got a very special guest post today from Will (manly friend’s roommate of sorts). Now before I pass you off into Will’s very large, capable hands, I feel the need to give a bit of a preface.

The pictures below are a bit graphic. Will is talking about hunting animals. Some people may be offended by this. I am not, though.

When I decided to start eating meat again I didn’t want to be oblivious like I was before. I wanted to eat meat with my eyes wide open. Having my eyes wide open means being aware of where my meat comes from. And meat comes from animals that were once alive and have to be killed in order for me to get the big, juicy burgers that I love so much.

So while these photos (the ones of the animal, not Will) aren’t comforting or enjoyable, they’re the truth behind your meat. Or rather, they’re the truth behind non-factory farmed meat. Factory-farmed meat truths are ones that I choose not to think about, so I don’t eat it.

Anywhoo, enough of me rambling, which you get to hear read everyday. AND Will’s funnier than me. So without further ado, here’s Will…


A Recipe for Fried Racoon

Ingredients (With some pictures)

Coon Dogs



The one on the top is Maggie, a bona fide Black and Tan coon dog, one on the bottom is Duke, a well intentioned and very sweet, though absolutely useless mutt, whose predominate role in all this is moral support.

.22 Rifle

Yes, that really is his gun.

Finding one in pink is easier than you might think, most Dick’s and Wal-Mart’s carry them, finding someone that attractive to carry one though, is somewhat more difficult.

Flashlight with Red or Yellow Lens

This one’s pretty self explanatory, but you need the colored lenses because the raccoon won’t look at a normal white light, as it offends it’s delicate wittle eyes.

Raccoon Habitat 

This is the view from our hiking spot a few weeks ago.

Where I live is real pretty


This is my profile picture


What kind of parents send their daughter out in a rainstorm to get salt? Also, what kind of daughter doesn’t notice her salt is leaking


Will, was taking pictures of these things an efficient use of your time?

Ok the last three probably didn’t need pictures



Frying Pan

I like my cooking utensils.



Part 1: Raccoon Acquisition

  1. About 2 hours after dark, take the Coon Dogs, .22 (I didn’t say put bullets on the list, but bring some of those too), and Flashlight and put them into the Raccoon Habitat.
    1. Did I say dogs, haha, I meant dog. Leave Duke at home, he’s honestly just a hindrance when trying to get anything done.
    2. Cut the dog loose near a stream bed or other common place that raccoons


If you manage to cut loose on top of a scent, the dog will run away very fast, sniffing the ground

  1. Wait a while
  2. The dog will hopefully tree, you can tell because it will start barking its “Treed Bark” which sounds different than their usual bark and the sound will come from one place. Maggie’s is real pretty, it’s all like BAW-ROOO ROOO ROOO.
  3. Walk to where the dog’s treed up.
  4. Shine the flashlight around the tree, look for the light to hit the raccoon’s eyes which are reflective.
  5. Shoot the raccoon between the eyes
    1. It will fall out of the tree and your dog will start biting at it excitedly, take the raccoon away from the dog and take both home

Part 2: Raccoon Disassembly

  1. Suspend the Raccoon by it’s hind legs
  2. Skin the Raccoon (I’ll save y’all the details, that’s Leon doin’ it, which is his name, sorry, as a 22 year old man, I can’t call him Manly Friend. He’s my friend, named Leon)

    Will's just jealous.

Trim the fat off the raccoon (it’s a pretty serious chore on these thing’s)

And there's the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

  1. Cut up the body into 5 parts, the 4 legs and the thorax
    1. Throw out most of the thorax, except the flank steaks. If you want to be all flashy like captain fancy pants, you can do a butterfly cut. I just sorta cut all the free meat off.
    2. Put the pan on the stove and melt the butter in it. Once it’s good and melted, drop in the meat, and put on salt and pepper to taste.
    3. Eat it.

Well, I hope this was interesting for you guys, also, I’m a little worried you guys are going to think Kara and her boyfriend are associating with some axemurderer in the woods, what with the hunting and that knife picture, which was kind of extreme, so to assuage your concerns, here is a more docile picture of me, sipping tea and listening to Teagan and Sarah.

The heels of his shoes say "The New Hotness."


Yes eaters, this is my friend and boyfriend. I spared you the details (and pictures) of the pelt making process. 

You’re welcome.

So what do you think:

Are my friends (and my thoughts about meat) bat shit crazy?

What are your thoughts on hunting?

G’night eaters!


Guest Post: Zoe

Hi eaters!

I just got back from two nights at manly friend’s lake camp. It was more than a hoot and half. I’ll tell you all the dirty details later, but for now I’ll leave you with one word: outhouse. Mmmm…

And now I’ll leave you in the very capable hands of one of my oldest and dearest bloggirl friends, Zoe.

She’s gorgeous, inside and out. 


i used to be an exercise bulimic.

it still sounds weird saying it out loud. especially coming from someone who spent her life focusing on life outside of exercise. sure, i spent the ages of three to nineteen playing soccer and sure, i loved PE and general movement. but i never committed myself to regimented exercise.

the long spiral downward started two years ago when, on a trip, i unintentionally lost ten pounds. i shrunk the stomach i always loathed and felt confident for the first time in, well, ever. the new-found feeling was one i did not want to let slip away. so i started running casually, three to four days a week, steadily building up my pace and endurance until running for half an hour (or three miles) felt easy. i felt accomplished, healthy, balanced, and happy.

oddly enough, face book set me off. not magazines. not movies. not television. just a status. a friend’s status about running five miles sparked in me a competitive flame. i told myself i could run five miles. i told myself i could run more than five miles. so i did. i started running six or seven days a week instead of three or four days. if only to combat all the food i took in (which, in reality was less than 1,000 or so calories a day). if only to combat the size of my suddenly too-large thighs (the ones that no longer fit in any pair of pants). if only to combat my stomach, that disgusting pouch i wanted so desperately to simply take scissors to and lop off (um, what stomach?).

other things started too.

i started reading food and fitness blogs.

i turned vegetarian.

i turned vegan.

i lost twenty some odd pounds — really, really fast.

i lost my period.

i lost my social life.

i lost my mind.

and i cracked in mid-summer 2010. i realized crying every day wasn’t normal. i realized constant pain in my knees and hamstrings wasn’t normal. i realized not sleeping, being consistently tired, snapping at people, and not eating wasn’t normal. and, above all, i realized i hated running.

so i stopped. cold turkey.

did it suck? yes. was i anxious? yes. did the need to work out bombard me all the time? yes. all. the. time. remember, i compulsively exercised every single day. do i regret it? not a fucking chance.

if i never stopped running i never would have discovered yoga. i never would have healed my heart and soul. the mind body connection might have remained broken for years. if i never stopped running i would never have discovered rock climbing. i never would have realized movement as its intended purpose: fun. i never would have stopped counting calories burned. i never would have stopped associating movement purely with losing weight. i never would have discovered myself outside of exercise.

have i gained weight? oh yes. when you stop running seven miles a day every day and actually eat of course you gain weight. has it been a struggle? yes. but i cannot tell you how happy i am now. exercise no longer controls my life. i’ve had time to make friendships, follow hobbies, and just live.

these days the majority of my exercise comes from non-regimented forms of movement. i kissed the gym goodbye over a year ago. i traded it in for soulful time on my yoga mat and moments of transcendence on the side of a mountain and peaceful surroundings during a walk. more recently i’ve incorporated a few days of running during the week and not because i have to, but because i want to. i am happy to report i feel no compulsive need to push it further.

if you are struggling, i urge you to let it be. drop the obsession, the guilt, the craziness and only trust. trust yourself and your intuition. it can only guide you to great things when you listen. because if i learned anything, i learned to listen to the body. to figure out what it really wants to be doing. to question the motives behind your exercise choices. i encourage you to ask yourself why you move how you move. i encourage you to be aware of your body the next time you find yourself moving. how does it feel? do you feel in touch with your body? do you feel alive? or do you feel frustrated and detached? keep asking yourself questions and listening to the sensations in your body until you uncover all the answers.

and if you are struggling, know it gets easier. every second. every day. every week. know you will never be in one place for the remainder of your life. there is a way to achieve balance. it just takes a little dedication, patience, and an open heart. you are stronger than you think.




Guest Post: Laura

Hi eaters! (as Ms. Kara would say).

While she is away having tons of fun with the one who is manly, I am very happy to be filling in today and sharing with all of you Food Baby Blog readers.

Isn't she pretty?

I’m Laura from Scribbles and Sass – where I share my adventures, life, fitness, and dating mishaps. I’d call them tips, but most should probably be avoided. Don’t try these at home.

I’m sorry to say there will be no recipes shared today from me. I’m not a food blogger as much as I attempt sometimes (if you want a kickass GF vegan pancake recipe click here).

After reading about Kara’s diagnosis, I was reminded about my journey for answers and rehab after a bad ankle injury last year.

I was on stage dancing, my ultimate passion, when a fellow performer knocked into me by accident and down I went. Full of adrenaline and a little rage I got up and continued (for two hours) thinking it was just a bad twist. After the show was done, I removed my tights and my ankle exploded. A balloon, right there between my calf and my foot. It resembled nothing with bone structure, but a grapefruit.

I passed up the Emergency room for sleep; it had been a long day and I was convinced with some elevation and Advil the balloon would pop. Sadly, when I woke up the next day, the only thing deflated was my optimism. My first stop was to get crutches, my second was the hospital for x-rays. “Too swollen to see much,” one tech said to me, “but I’m sure it’s not broken.” After a doctor suggested physio and acupuncture as my next step I was quick to find my healer. ..and a good brace.

Many hours of my day looked like this:

Which is really unfortunate when all you want to do is run. I was in a really good place with my fitness, I loved being back on the stage performing, and yoga and running were my yin and yang. What was I to do now? Nothing. Even walking was a chore most of the time. After about two weeks I hobbled with appreciation that I was back on two feet. My downfall was acting like nothing happened. Went to the cottage thinking I’d be able to run down the dock or get into the boat with ease. What a mistake – I realized I needed to commit time to my recovery.

And so it came, my diagnosis day: chipped cartilage, a ligament tear, a compressed bursa.

Like Kara, I also immersed myself in research. I wanted to know everything about my injury and how I could go about fixing it.

There were diagrams.

And lots of photos of recovery.

With acupuncture, physio and rehab in my life on a daily basis the ankle was coming along strong. My fitness, on the other hand, was not. I still couldn’t run since the pain was so intense. Yoga just didn’t spark the same fire in me. I had to try something new, something fun that would take me over heart and soul again.

I tried Zumba since it incorporated fun Latin music, dance and getting sweaty.

I get to take a Zumba class this fall for credit.


I tried Jukari, because who doesn’t dream of running away to join the circus?

Holy amazing!


I tried BodyPump, and BodyStep, and BodyFlow, and every other “Body” class my gym offered.

The "Bodies" are pretty intense classes.


After a while I didn’t need to consciously try anything, because I just started to DO.

Injuries are really sucky things. I still feel pain in my ankle daily, and sharp stabbing, blinding pains weekly. I still can’t really run.

I can have fun with my fitness though, and that is the best part!



Isn’t Laura freaking amazing?! I sure think so.

And I lovelovelove how committed to not only exercising, but to finding an exercise that she loved. 

Anywhoo, I’ll try to get at you tomorrow, eaters, with a post from Vermont, but I’m not sure if manly friend’s “camp” has internet, so no promises.

Later eaters!