Carrie Saum

So, what do you do when you make something that looks a mess but tastes like the Virgin Mary give birth in your mouth? You add more sugar and salt to hide its minor imperfections and nobody gives a damn how it looks after the first bite.

Once upon a time, I went to Greece. Then I went to a tiny island and didn’t tell anyone. And then I ate a lot of amazing Greek food, hung out with the Australian water polo team who had just competed in the Olympics, and drank Heineken all day from a can.

Summer is winding down.

Thin Mints are my favorite. They’ve ALWAYS been my favorite. I would hide a sleeve in our freezer as a kid, and wait for my brothers to leave the house so I could eat them in peace. As an adult, not much has changed. I look forward to that time of year when Girl Scout cookies make winter doldrums bright again.

Something powerful shifted for me when I turned 30. I decided to stop caring about my weight as a means to measure my success, beauty and worth as a woman. I gave myself permission to care for my body, and to care for the woman inside that body first.

I now interrupt your frantic turkey preparations for the following announcement: 

EAT PIZZA, INSTEAD.

Every year, I recreate my favorite street vendor’s glüwine (pronounced glue-vine), and remember that crazy freedom. I’m instantly transported back to those snowy cobblestone streets, freezing hands and feet, warm belly, and everything tinged with magic even while being naively idiotic.

Whoever Waldorf is, I love their style of salads the most. Fruit, celery, creamy goodness. It's hard to go wrong. I mean, you CAN go wrong, but you shouldn't because that would be silly.

I am not here for your betterment. I am not here to be your dumping ground for all of your thoughts and fears. You are not entitled to my emotional labor!

Peanut butter can provide a good hit of protein and in the mornings, that’s what I need more than anything else. Except I love pastries.