Last updated on February 9th, 2015
Back from England and happily cohabitating on the West Coast with the cutest puppy ever, C.C. and B.F. have a new culinary challenge up their respective sleeves.
As you recall, B.F. is a confirmed bacon lover. Remember the bacon-chocolate cupcakes? He thinks bacon deserves its own elemental symbol on the periodic chart of elements, or at the very least, the periodic chart of aliments.
So imagine C.C.’s surprise when B.F. says he wants to go on the Paleo Diet for two months. Because C.C. can never resist experimenting with her diet, she signs up without due diligence.
Shockingly, bacon is not allowed on this diet.
As she understands from B.F., the basic premise is something about eating fish, meats, nuts, and unlimited fruits and vegetables, much as people would’ve done in the Paleolithic Age, before the Agricultural Revolution. The authors posit that the human genome hasn’t altered significantly since then, so neither should our diet. C.C. is actively resisting debate with this idea, choosing instead to partake in the two-month challenge and to support B.F.
Sadly, what this means for C.C. is that grains of any sort are not allowed. Mon dieu! Two words: No. Bread. And two more words: No. Cookies.
The diet does have an 85/15 rule, which means you eat Paleo 85 percent of the time. C.C. believes this is realistic. However, she suspects that the other 15 percent shouldn’t consist of outright badness, like cookies, but something healthier like, beans, or like, Oops! I are out at the French place and it was cooked in butter.
That’s right, butter and all manner of dairy—that means you, Manchego—are off limits. You may be asking: Is this a life worth living? Have we not evolved past the Cavepeople for a reason? Who needs to emulate Chaka from Land of the Lost when we have Chaka Khan?
But for C.C., the diet started fantastically! Because B.F. likes to cook. Score! The inaugural weekend of the Paleo Diet, B.F. cooked breakfast, lunch, and even dinner. Both days! He even did all the dishwasher duty. C.C. has indeed, in the immortal words of Margaret Cho, found a unicorn (La Cho explains it at the 4:50 mark).
Dinner consisted of an appetizer of kale chips, an entrée of fresh grilled salmon, julienned butternut squash (from the organic delivery box), and broccoli. Not exactly sexy, but wholesome, and C.C. doubts cavemen ate that well. And to note, C.C. knows kale chips are laughably in the same trend category as lime butter, but she admits, they are great. Especially as she falls into the category of nibbler as opposed to feaster.
And B.F. even “cooked” breakfast, lunch, and dinner for Cali, C.C. and B.F.’s undeniably cute puppy who still needs her food prepared. This amounts to adding some warm water to the kibble, letting it set and straining it before adding some fish oil and/or chicken and rice, all of which to C.C. constitutes “cooking.” Yes, using an electric kettle and straining and stirring constitute “cooking” in C.C.’s book, because there are more than two steps involved.
And she does not even want to get started on how cooking only makes her think of the pangs of cleaning up. This is probably one of the biggest deterrents to C.C.’s career in cooking—the overwhelming and overriding compulsion for cleaning up. C.C. definitely cleans up as she goes, sometimes even letting the food get cold to clean before eating, such is her sense of order. This is totally in contrast to B.F. who, of course, makes the kitchen look like a small tornado hit it, especially as he has to use so many pots and pans and utensils to create.
And, now that B.F. is away on a business trip, C.C. realizes that due to the meat requirement, the Paleo Diet involves cooking THREE TIMES A DAY. So now C.C. has to cook for herself and a puppy THREE TIMES A DAY. She feels the pain of housewives with children everywhere, really, she does. OMG. Will she make it through two months? Will she successfully regress to become a healthy cavewoman? Or will she cave to the urge for cooookies?