“Wait, What?” Potato Hummus

Yes, you read me correctly—potato hummus! Hummus of potatoes!

Easy to make, easy to eat, and kinda fun to say—it has something of a rhythm to it don’t you think?

I vented in my last post that the Whole30’s stringent “No Sex With Your Pants On” rule feels like an unnecessary layer of misery that I won’t be strictly abiding because it restricts kitchen play. Upon deeper reading, I think this rule mostly applies to baked goods. So on one hand, this is either totally above board and Whole30 compliant…

Or I’m a culinary rebel, doing things my own way! I ain’t here to judge, I’m here to eat.

This creamy, savoury, legume-free hummus functions everywhere its chickpea cousin hangs out—served with raw vegetables, used as a spread, it’s multi-purpose, velvety, AND delicious.

“Wait, What?” Potato Hummus
(Adapted from A Calculated Whisk)
Makes approximately 2 cups hummus

potatohummus

1 lb. potatoes (something like a Yukon Gold)
Sea salt
2 cloves garlic, crushed
1/4 cup plus 1 tablespoon tahini
3 tbsp. lemon juice
1/2 tsp smoked paprika, plus more for serving
1/4 c. plus 2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil

1. Cut the potatoes into small pieces and put them in the bottom of a pot, covering with water. No need to peel them! Salt the water as though you’re cooking pasta. Cover, bring to a boil, and cook until spuds are fork tender.

2. Drain the potatoes and rinse with cold water, reserving some of the cooking liquid. Add them to blender or food processor. If you’re using a blender, like I did, mashing the potatoes before hand might help the motor run a little easier. Blend them up and taste the puree—add salt to your desire!

3. Add garlic, tahini, lemon juice, and paprika, blending again until smooth. If texture is too thick and your blender is struggling, add a few tablespoons of cooking liquid or water to help.

4. With the motor running, stream in the olive oil until desired texture is achieved. scoop out and top with extra paprika, olive oil, and whatever else you want!

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Whole-y Grail or Wholly Crap?

This month, I’m taking on the Whole30 Challenge with my friend and fellow blogger, McMaymie (check her out, she’s dope)!

This is out of my wheelhouse.  I generally think plans or diets that eliminate healthy staples like legumes or whole grains are less likely to be effective in the long term. However, in addition to the above, the Whole30 also slashes the usual suspects when it comes to better health: alcohol, added sugar, soy, and dairy.

My boss, who is in the middle of the program with her husband, calls it the “zero happiness” diet.

So, why would anyone in hell do this?

#1. I’M COMPETITIVE. Everyone calls it extreme. At first I thought that was funny and ridiculous, and then I wanted to experience it for myself.

#2.  I’M CURIOUS.  It’s an experiment to see how I fare, physically and mentally, in a kitchen full of restrictions. During my two-week vegan experiment in April, I noticed I eat a lot of breads with a lot of additives. I’m curious how my body feels without them. Many of the things the plan eliminates (lactose, gluten, soy) are irritants that cause inflammation to the system.

#3. PEOPLE ARE LOVING IT. So… I wanna know why. Can it really give me more energy? Balance my digestion? Find me a unicorn?

#3. I KIND OF HATE IT. At the very least I hate the voice they use on their website, and that resentment is fueling me to attempt to succeed for the full. 30. days.  Here’s an example of their slightly passive aggressive, humble-braggery: if you slip up, they say you should start the entire thing over again.

“If you want to do the Whole30, then do it, and either start after the special occasion or figure out how to enjoy your life without mojitos and cheese. We recommend the latter, because we haven’t had a mojito or cheese in ages, and we’re still happy and fun.”

Really? Because you sound smug and condescending. This isn’t making me like you any more. And sure, you don’t CARE that I like you, but if I’m following someone into the trenches and I don’t get to bring my cheese pizza as a shield, you had better find a BETTER way to lead me. So… let’s try this again. If there’s a slip SHOULD I start over again?

Answer #5: Do whatever you want, because you’re a grown-up.”

…Okay, you’re trying to shame me, and it’s not working. As an adult, any choice I make is an adult decision.

I’ve read lots of articles FOR and AGAINST this eating plan, and in the first week, it’s too early to judge which side I’ll fall on. Some of the rules of this regimen make sense to me. Some of them make me roll my eyes.

An episode of Food 52’s podcast Burnt Toast titled “Fat Is Not Bad, Stupid Is Bad” pinpointed something that usually irks me about these fad diets. The guest on the episode said a key part of eating nutritiously is “think for yourself.” With meal plans like this, many follow the rules to the letter. Sure, that’s the point, to go all in, to put in your faith and effort…. But I really think a healthy lifestyle cannot be one-size-fits-all, and the rules should be modified.

Here are some of the rules I’ll be bending/challenging/scoffing loudly at:

1. “No Sex With Pants On.” I think this rule, for certain people, is more damaging than it is useful. It’s when you make something that would be “off limits,” using ingredients that are technically approved by the plan—think coconut flour pancakes or zucchini pasta.  The Whole30 is fond of ‘nos.’ I think playing within ingredient constraints turns those negatives into positives.

“I can’t have this food,” turns into “I CAN cook with all of these other ones!” if you just loosen your grip a little. I’m not going to make meat bagels,  or even pancakes, but I refuse to strictly adhere to anything which doesn’t allow room for culinary play. It just ain’t gonna happen.  If you’re frustrated and bored with your food, you’ll be frustrated, and the plan won’t stick.

2. “No snacking.” L-O-L. It’s almost like this plan was made generically for a bunch of people without any flexibility as to their current state or their histories! (They do make exceptions for pre- or post-workout snacks.) I spent a long time as a binge eater. I’m still in recovery from that, and I remember the days when the feeling of hunger was an exciting novelty to be embraced and nurtured. When I am hungry, I am going to eat a rule-abiding snack. If my body is talking, I will be listening.

3. “No weighing yourself.” I get this one. I really do. As someone who has occasional scale struggle, I understand. And I could, when I break it down, go without a scale for a full month. But I don’t have to, and I don’t want to. Apparently it’s because if you’re in the middle of the plan and you don’t get results you want, you’ll feel discouraged. I have zero expectations of results. I want some gosh darn data during an experiment. Will I be cutting down on the frequency of my weigh ins? Absolutely.

So that’s it, my brief summary of my reasons for foraying into the cult-like eating experience that is sure to be the Whole30…

More to come unless I die very soon from the lack of cheddar in my system.