A Naturally Sweet Sundae

The phrase "it's 5 o'clock somewhere" officially has no meaning to me anymore.

Last night I sat down to a long table in a beautiful Mexican courtyard. Strings of white lights overhead, chili peppers hanging on a trellis, bright orange, yellow and blue flags overhead... It looked like a scene straight out of Desperado.

My sister and I giggled excitedly as we looked over the margarita menu. Peach, strawberry, and lime oh my!

And then it hit me.

I can't order a margarita. Did you hear that? I CAN'T order a margarita!

So here it is. Surprise #1 of living without the ingredient that shall not be mentioned: I CAN'T ORDER A MARGARITA.

Nor can I enjoy any of it's equally sweet and satisfying counterparts. My personal drink of choice, gin & tonic, has officially made its way to the black list along with Bailey's Irish Cream and many other lovely liquid concoctions that make me smile and say "yum!"

But here's the thing: this is, in the wise words of Martha, a good thing.

These oh-so-yummy drinks are normally filled with highly processed forms of the ingredient that shall not be mentioned. They also include a long list of other unpronounceable contents that are far more familiar to a chemist than a cook. Thus, I took the high road and ordered a beer.

It tasted like Motel 6 water. Yuck.

The Day the Dessert Died

I just couldn't help myself... 

There it was. Small. Square. Purple. 

My stomach growled as I dug through my purse. My eyes wandered to the clock on the wall as my professor jabbered on and on about different body-types and flattering cuts that would help accentuate "what your mamma gave ya." 

Yuck. What an over-used statement.

Let's just cut to the chase: Puffy shoulders look awful on everyone. End of story. 

As I open the wrapper it makes that crinkly "I shouldn't be eating in class" noise. The one that you avoid by making really slow calculated movements that just end up accentuating the fact that yes, you are eating in class and no it isn't something healthy. 

I should mention that when I get hungry I get mean. Not just snappy mean. Mean mean. Like, "I really hope you don't think this is how I actually am as a person" mean. 

Especially when I'm craving sugar.

There it is. The dreaded word. The Voldemort of the cooking world. The ingredient that shall not be mentioned. At least that's what I'm going to call it for the next 364 days...

As I nibble off the corner of the Sees Awesome Walnut Square Bar I realized that whoever named this speck of heaven was spot on. 

This is awesome. 

There's just one tiny problem. It's February 18th - the day that I'm supposed to stop eating refined sugars for a year. 

Now let me be very clear on this. I didn't actually purchase this Sees slice of delight. It was gifted to me on Valentine's Day and I just so happened to nonchalantly drop it into my purse where I figured it would disappear and not make it's way into my oh-so-overused digestive system. 

Right. 

So here I am. A day late on my self-imposed ingredient that shall not be mentioned abstinence trip and wondering how the heck did I end up here? 

Still wondering...

Nothing. Still nothing. Oh well, I'm hoping that somehow, over the course of the next year, an answer will somehow manage its way out of this catastrophe that is my resolution. 

So here's the deal. For 365 days I am going to cut refined sugars out of my diet. Completely. 

Now, for some of you, this may not sound like quite a big feat. And you're right. It's totally lame. But I have a sweet tooth. Well, I have 32 sweet teeth to be exact.

And I love to cook. 

I bake, roast, toast, sauté, flambe, puree... You name it, I do it. 

And I do it in the kitchen.

Oh, and one more thing. "It" always involves the ingredient that shall not be mentioned. 

So here goes. To honey, agave nectar, date sugar and to all of your other naturally sweet counterparts, I welcome you to my kitchen and look forward to spending the next annum by your side.

And to you dear reader, I invite you to come along on this culinary adventure (or catastrophe) and embrace all of the genuine goodness that your mamma earth gave ya.

That joke was bad. I know.