For those of you that don't sweat, I'm sorry. Sweating to me means I'm doing it right, I know I'm gonna feel it the next day and I happen to think it's sexy.
Sexy? Yes, sexy. To me, there are few things sexier than knowing you dominated your workout or your run or that hot yoga sesh and being able to see the proof head to toe. Think I'm crazy? Maybe I am, okay I am.
Sweating wasn't always something I was good at, at least not a "good" sweat. Sweating from the heavy, wet, Minnesota summers as a teenager is not something I would consider a " good" sweat. Neither is being winded from ONE flight of stairs (been there, done that) . But when I discovered my love for "good" sweat I knew I'd be a lifer.
I'm not fit but I'm getting there. I know I'm the fittest I've ever been. I know my endurance can spank the panties off of my former self and I know I'm proud of my sweat. For me, sweating is a privilege. I know that if I was to bitch-about my workout that I wouldn't be able to wipe the shit out of my eyes, and for me that's a problem.
D is also finding his love for sweat and its been a blast to have someone to sweat with. If you don't have a sweat buddy, I recommend finding one. Can't find one? Make one. Take your dog or cat on a hike, I dunno. Also, make the time for your self to sweat and for your sweat buddy. Don't have time? That's bullshit. No really, you have time for whatever you make a priority, I swear. I didn't used to think I had time and then I realized, "having just a couple more beers" (shut up, I still love beer) 3 times a week is probably where I just might have a few extra minutes. Your show is on? So. Buy a DVR. We did.
Anyways, what I'm basically saying is that I'm addicted to sweating and making myself sweat. I'm proud of it and don't care who knows it.
So, do some sweating today! I never said how you had to achieve being a sweaty mess 😉 just get there.
P.s. Jax Fish House tomorrow (see why I make myself sweat so much?) you know I'll share my thoughts.
Sunday, March 3, 2013
Friday, March 1, 2013
Denver Restaurant Week: Row 14
Denver Restaurant Week is a good way for diners to expand their horizons, get an awesome deal and be able to eat at restaurants that broke, 20 something's (such as myself) wouldn't normally be able to.
It's also a good way for those of you who fucked up Valentine's Day to redeem yourselves, being that it falls the week after.
D did not ruin our Valentine's Day but we do love food and we do love Restaurant Week so naturally we ventured out. We ended up at Row 14 yesterday evening on a whim. It wasn't on our original list but one of the investors happened to come into the shop and end up in my chair. We discussed food and the fact I was beginning a "food" blog so long story short he told me I should check out his spot and let him know. So I did, I made a reservation and there we were.
Our reservation was for 7:45 but given the circumstances of the week, we had a few minutes to kill. Obviously we headed to the bar where we were greeted by the nervous yet friendly bartender that suggested a red blend because she had sold a lot of it...
Come to find out its her second day, during Restaurant Week, so I thought it was endearing actually. I have an insane amount of respect for people that give it to me straight and basically say, " I'm pretty sure this is good. Wanna try first"? Or " seriously, if you hate it, tell me and I'll get you something else." Turns out my glass of wine was legit and D's drink of reposado, basil infused blood orange juice, and a kaffir lime leaf ( she smacked the leaf in some fancy way so the oils leached out) was reeeeeaaaallllyyyy good. It was basically pink so of course I gave D shit and said, "pinky up" while he drank it.
We sit, I love our server, we order. Yes, the menu is prixe fixed. For those of you that hate that, don't do Restaurant Week ( why, or am I supposed to still be capitalizing that? I told you...) and go to Country Buffet where your options are endless. I lust over arugula in general so I requested the arugula salad as my first course. This was not just a bed of arugula, this was a SALAD. A beautifully crafted salad with poached pears, roasted shallots, walnut-crusted goat cheese truffles and a cider vinaigrette. The pears were lovely, not soggy. The texture and the creaminess of the truffles was fantastic. The shallots were perfect (I'm such an onion/garlic lover, and they were in abundance) they were silky and translucent but still had crunch. The cider vinaigrette was the perfect amount of acidity to balance out the sweet, peppery, creaminess. Why can't all salads be created equal!? D had the ricotta gnocchi with asparagus in a parmesean broth. The gnocchi was perfectly light, the asparagus was sliced thin and delicate and the broth was a little salty and funky (good funky). I sipped my riesling, D worked on his rye cocktail and we waited for round 2 with smiles on our faces.
Lamb bolognese with fresh pappardelle and house-made ricotta? Duh. As I mentioned before, pasta is god and I have little to zero will power against it. The noodles were fat and perfectly al dente (soggy pasta is SO bad), the sauce was thick and sticky and the teeny bits of carrots added just enough sweetness to balance out the acidity from the tomatoes. The lamb? It was delicious. It was clearly bathing in tomatoes for god knows how long so how can you go wrong? Ricotta that's made from scratch is clearly the shit. It's not grainy like store bought stuff and rounded out that pasta dish like nobody's business.
D's pork shoulder and butternut squash polenta was phenomenal. It had apple-bacon butter so gimme a break. What other explanation do you need? That pork was cooked beautifully, crispy on the outside and buttery on the inside. It was was great... But pasta trumps all.
I finished another glass of wine and waited for dessert (Like we needed dessert. Okay, we did.) and decided that I wouldn't have changed a thing. The service was stellar (minus the FREAK hostess that was so beyond frizzle frazzled and over the top. She managed to break a candle holder and drop the coat rack on fellow patrons. Entertaining none-the-less.) Our food and our drinks exceeded my expectations, and then our dessert arrived. My brownie topped with peanut butter ice cream was killer. Just enough crust on the outside, chewy and black cherry-studded on the inside (I know, black cherries with peanut butter and chocolate? Trust.) And the ice cream ? Please. It's peanut butter and it's ice cream, it was divine. And then there was D's not-so-spectacular donut holes. They were meh. Not awful, but not comparable to the rest of our meal which is why I won't go into detail.
Overall, Row 14 did it's thang and I was satisfied. So get out there while you still can, guys. Go when you're starving ( not only was I starving but I did a double workout in preparation) and go with an open mind.
It's also a good way for those of you who fucked up Valentine's Day to redeem yourselves, being that it falls the week after.
D did not ruin our Valentine's Day but we do love food and we do love Restaurant Week so naturally we ventured out. We ended up at Row 14 yesterday evening on a whim. It wasn't on our original list but one of the investors happened to come into the shop and end up in my chair. We discussed food and the fact I was beginning a "food" blog so long story short he told me I should check out his spot and let him know. So I did, I made a reservation and there we were.
Our reservation was for 7:45 but given the circumstances of the week, we had a few minutes to kill. Obviously we headed to the bar where we were greeted by the nervous yet friendly bartender that suggested a red blend because she had sold a lot of it...
Come to find out its her second day, during Restaurant Week, so I thought it was endearing actually. I have an insane amount of respect for people that give it to me straight and basically say, " I'm pretty sure this is good. Wanna try first"? Or " seriously, if you hate it, tell me and I'll get you something else." Turns out my glass of wine was legit and D's drink of reposado, basil infused blood orange juice, and a kaffir lime leaf ( she smacked the leaf in some fancy way so the oils leached out) was reeeeeaaaallllyyyy good. It was basically pink so of course I gave D shit and said, "pinky up" while he drank it.
We sit, I love our server, we order. Yes, the menu is prixe fixed. For those of you that hate that, don't do Restaurant Week ( why, or am I supposed to still be capitalizing that? I told you...) and go to Country Buffet where your options are endless. I lust over arugula in general so I requested the arugula salad as my first course. This was not just a bed of arugula, this was a SALAD. A beautifully crafted salad with poached pears, roasted shallots, walnut-crusted goat cheese truffles and a cider vinaigrette. The pears were lovely, not soggy. The texture and the creaminess of the truffles was fantastic. The shallots were perfect (I'm such an onion/garlic lover, and they were in abundance) they were silky and translucent but still had crunch. The cider vinaigrette was the perfect amount of acidity to balance out the sweet, peppery, creaminess. Why can't all salads be created equal!? D had the ricotta gnocchi with asparagus in a parmesean broth. The gnocchi was perfectly light, the asparagus was sliced thin and delicate and the broth was a little salty and funky (good funky). I sipped my riesling, D worked on his rye cocktail and we waited for round 2 with smiles on our faces.
Lamb bolognese with fresh pappardelle and house-made ricotta? Duh. As I mentioned before, pasta is god and I have little to zero will power against it. The noodles were fat and perfectly al dente (soggy pasta is SO bad), the sauce was thick and sticky and the teeny bits of carrots added just enough sweetness to balance out the acidity from the tomatoes. The lamb? It was delicious. It was clearly bathing in tomatoes for god knows how long so how can you go wrong? Ricotta that's made from scratch is clearly the shit. It's not grainy like store bought stuff and rounded out that pasta dish like nobody's business.
D's pork shoulder and butternut squash polenta was phenomenal. It had apple-bacon butter so gimme a break. What other explanation do you need? That pork was cooked beautifully, crispy on the outside and buttery on the inside. It was was great... But pasta trumps all.
I finished another glass of wine and waited for dessert (Like we needed dessert. Okay, we did.) and decided that I wouldn't have changed a thing. The service was stellar (minus the FREAK hostess that was so beyond frizzle frazzled and over the top. She managed to break a candle holder and drop the coat rack on fellow patrons. Entertaining none-the-less.) Our food and our drinks exceeded my expectations, and then our dessert arrived. My brownie topped with peanut butter ice cream was killer. Just enough crust on the outside, chewy and black cherry-studded on the inside (I know, black cherries with peanut butter and chocolate? Trust.) And the ice cream ? Please. It's peanut butter and it's ice cream, it was divine. And then there was D's not-so-spectacular donut holes. They were meh. Not awful, but not comparable to the rest of our meal which is why I won't go into detail.
Overall, Row 14 did it's thang and I was satisfied. So get out there while you still can, guys. Go when you're starving ( not only was I starving but I did a double workout in preparation) and go with an open mind.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
The no- go's
As I stated earlier somewhere around here, my blog will be dedicated to mostly food, love and being in it as we'll as my new found passion for fitness. Being that food is naturally most important (sorry D) I figured I would start there. However, rambling on with forty pages of all my favorite foods seems next to impossible not to mention pointless in reading so I figure I'll go the easy and less time consuming route. Although they are few and far between, there are some things not even this girl digs eating. So, I think it's necessary to get it all on the table (ha,lame) and let it be known that there are some appetite suppressing and gag reflex inducing things I'd rather not put in my mouth...
1. Canned tuna
Minus the fact it smells like wet cat food, even I sometimes crave the shit. But the amounts of mustard, mayo, pickles and onions I have to use to make it edible hardly seems worth it.
2. Menudo
For those of you that are unsure as to what menudo is, it's a traditional Mexican soup, often chile-based and loaded with honking chunks of tripe. Don't know what tripe is? It's beef stomach. Yep, chewy hunks of cow stomach swimming around in red broth... Sick. If only it was just posole. (More on posole later)
3. Swiss cheese
I've been an avid cheese lover my whole life. Just look at my wings, I mean triceps, they can vouch. I have no explanation for not liking it, it is my mother's favorite. I've just never been into it.
4. Bleu cheese
I know, I know! Most of you are screaming "What"!? (Especially D). A cheese lover that doesn't love bleu cheese? Once again, I don't have much of an explanation, it's not even that funky of a cheese. It's just kinda bleh.
5. Casseroles
For some of you, casseroles are comfort food. For me, casseroles bring back ridiculous memories of living in Minnesota as a child and enduring the weeks leftovers smothered in creamy, condensed soups. No thanks.
6. Misc
Lets get on with it, shall we? If it's potted meat or canned fish of any sort, I'm not doing it. Mint/chocolate combo? No thanks. (Sorry thin mints, samoas are my thang) bread and butter pickles? Meh, I'm a zesty girl myself.
I'm glad we've established some boundaries. It feels really good to just get it all out there so you really know who you're dealing with. That way, when you'd like to share your favorite tuna noodle casserole recipe in here, you know that shit won't fly.
P.s. I am REALLY new to the blogging world and I'm not an English teacher so do me a favor and cut me some slack.
P.s.s It's Denver Restaurant Week and D and I have a hot date at Row 14. Details to follow.
1. Canned tuna
Minus the fact it smells like wet cat food, even I sometimes crave the shit. But the amounts of mustard, mayo, pickles and onions I have to use to make it edible hardly seems worth it.
2. Menudo
For those of you that are unsure as to what menudo is, it's a traditional Mexican soup, often chile-based and loaded with honking chunks of tripe. Don't know what tripe is? It's beef stomach. Yep, chewy hunks of cow stomach swimming around in red broth... Sick. If only it was just posole. (More on posole later)
3. Swiss cheese
I've been an avid cheese lover my whole life. Just look at my wings, I mean triceps, they can vouch. I have no explanation for not liking it, it is my mother's favorite. I've just never been into it.
4. Bleu cheese
I know, I know! Most of you are screaming "What"!? (Especially D). A cheese lover that doesn't love bleu cheese? Once again, I don't have much of an explanation, it's not even that funky of a cheese. It's just kinda bleh.
5. Casseroles
For some of you, casseroles are comfort food. For me, casseroles bring back ridiculous memories of living in Minnesota as a child and enduring the weeks leftovers smothered in creamy, condensed soups. No thanks.
6. Misc
Lets get on with it, shall we? If it's potted meat or canned fish of any sort, I'm not doing it. Mint/chocolate combo? No thanks. (Sorry thin mints, samoas are my thang) bread and butter pickles? Meh, I'm a zesty girl myself.
I'm glad we've established some boundaries. It feels really good to just get it all out there so you really know who you're dealing with. That way, when you'd like to share your favorite tuna noodle casserole recipe in here, you know that shit won't fly.
P.s. I am REALLY new to the blogging world and I'm not an English teacher so do me a favor and cut me some slack.
P.s.s It's Denver Restaurant Week and D and I have a hot date at Row 14. Details to follow.
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