Tag Archives: food

14 zile intensive. Ziua 8

Ok, astazi o sa va explic de ce azi am mancat cam toate leftovers-urile (resturile).
Nu sunt ecologista, nu triez gunoiul, las apa sa curga, poluez aerul mergand cu masina, nu sunt vegetariana, nu ii condamn pe aia de poarta blanuri (si probabil ca daca as primi vreuna cadou, as purta-o), si cu siguranta ignor cu buna stiinta ca ma imbrac cu haine fabricate in cine stie ce conditii, si cel mai posibil de catre copii de varsta lu’ fii-mea!
Da, imi asum toate astea si probabil multe altele! Dar in toata nenorocirea asta care zace in mine, s-a nascut un principiu, unul singur.
Imaginea copilului aluia murind/mort de foame cu vulturii asteptand hoitul, care a inconjurat planeta cu ceva ani in urma, m-a tulburat atat de tare incat si acum ma bantuie! In completarea acestei fotografii mi-a mai dat o palma si #VictorHugo cu al sau roman #Mizerabilii, roman care descrie atat de bine saracia si degradarea umana incat mi se pare cea mai mare batjocura pe care o pot aduce omenirii si naturii, aruncand mancare.
Doar atata pot sa fiu de #eco! Deocamdata!

#micdejun paine #faragluten cu crema de branza light, rosii cherry si ardei iute

#pranz supa phu phu, phi phi, pho pho, luata la pachet alalteri, portia lu’ cumatra! Si…o mana (mica) de home made cartofi prajiti…fii-mea face pijama party si nah…ce sa le fac daca nu cartofi…si nu, nu am rezistat! Nu e dulce si nu e nici gluten… nu se incadreaza tocmai bine in “intensiv”, dar macar nu va mint 🙂

#cina supa de pui facuta marti, data in fiert azi si a fost super buna! 🙂

Got to go…am de supravegheat doua caprite!!!


14 zile intensive. Ziua 7

#micdejun 2 felii paine #faragluten, unt de arahide si dulceata de afine #farazahar. Cel mai misto la aceste doua produse e ca sunt chiar naturale, fara indulcitori artificiali, in cazul dulcetei, doar fructoza din afine, evident.

#pranz supa de pui cu taietei de orez pe care mi-am luat-o ieri la pachet! Da, iau mereu la pachet, pentru ca mi se pare ca risipa de mancare chiar e bataie de joc contra naturii. Si am luat si jumatatea de portie curry cu pui a lu’ cumatra Diana Ionescu 🙂 Si cum lu’ Printi a mea ii era pofta de indian ca ar manca in fiecare zi curry, astazi, doar ce am trecut strada la Taj sa ne porcim cu niste sosulete.

#cina branza in sos de ceapa, legume picante si orez simplu.

La pranz am mancat o patratica, doar una, de ciocolata neagra #farazahar.

I’m half way there!! Yuhuuu🏋🏋🏋

Scent vs. Taste

At the boutique where I work we serve Lasagnas and pastas a la Bolognese. Lasagnas I always loved, or at least their reputation. Back in my country, it’s not something you eat often. So, maybe it’s the fantasy I was mad about. On the other hand, Bolognese… bleah!!! Ground meat, tomato sauce… not something among my favorites.

Lasagnas, Bolognese and other stuff…

Part 1- other stuff…

The thing is… if you want to make time for you, you can sort it out somehow. I have been using all the pretexts and all the excuses in the world for not doing what I had in mind. Not having the time is the lowest excuse ever! If you love something real bad, you find the time! It doesn’t matter if it’s 5 minutes or 5 hours. It’s important to be all the time, ideally on a daily basis. Each and every day of our lives, it counts!

Imagine you’re on your death bed (even if it sound creepy… that day will come, except when you die in an accident, so you are not in your bed). You would do anything to have just one more day. I can’t even imagine how much it means one day! Lives change in one day! Destinies are written in one day. One day can make history! And examples are countless. Think that it was just one day, one moment when I don’t know what Slavic prince was killed and First World War has begun. It was one day when Hitler’s mother decided to get married and have Hitler and we all know how it went. Or, think of the day when Lady Diana died. That changed the course of history. Imagine if she would had lived and had a baby with Dodi… an Arab being the brother of the future king of Great Britain! I can only imagine the face of that castrated boiled rat of Charles and that infatuated non-fucked mother of his. And it was one day that changed everything.

Then why not appreciate every day I have? Why not make every day a celebration of life? Why not take advantage of all the days I have? I work hard every day, I’m there only for the money because living as a bohemian is no longer an option for me when I’m responsible for a little creature which is my baby. I start to realize that I’m in my comfort zone… but really, where’s the soul’s satisfaction? And I don’t understand one thing… why the fuck is it called comfort zone? If you’re comfortable in that situation, why leave it?

It’s true, I don’t have a lot of choices right now because of my immigrant status, but one day I’ll have done all my paperwork… What will I do? For the sake of my life, I hope I’ll wake up and have the courage to take the risk and find something else, even though, changes are not my things. I get attached, easily. It’s hard to let go. But since I’ve emigrated from my country, life has taught me things the hard way, so my ass is so kicked off that it has become senseless. Sometimes is good learning the hard way, I’ve said it before, what doesn’t kill you, makes you stronger (ok, I know, it’s someone else who said it before… who cares? … the message is important, not the messenger). So, ok, I don’t believe in this quit your job shit, I have a child to raise, a car to pay, I want to move out from my mom’s place… and my hubby is no Donald fucking Trump, he works hard for a shitty pay check! Welcome to immigrants’ club!

The question is… Can that stop me looking for another job? We’ll see by the end of the year if this goes… somewhere… over the rainbowJ

Part 2- Lasagnas Theory

So, I began writing about scent vs. taste. I know I left it unfinished but the important is I have started in the first place. There is no problem, look, I’m finishing now.

However, beginning things and never finish them that’s another thing.

I have mentioned the lasagnas. Let’s say I’ve drooled…literally, I’ve drooled about those lasagnas. The scent in the air, Good Lord, they were making me go crazy… pouring water in my mouth (saliva, actually). Once I said, what the fuck, I’ll bring two casseroles at home. I was having my band rehearsal so I didn’t want to eat in hurry. I wanted to have a special moment, with a glass of wine, candles…I’m joking with the candles. But I like making a special moment with something I love eating. I may say I have a sick cult of food…But that’s not important right now. So, I told my family I brought lasagnas. I said to myself I will eat in the morning.

Next day, I wake up, I go directly to the fridge, and … no lasagnas! What the fuck? Next second I hear my dear husband Oh, honey, you’ll be glad to know we eat until the very last bite, they were great the lasagnas! He knows I’m happy when he loves the food I cook/bring/buy, but the feeling I got! guess what? This time I felt like someone had just hit me… with a hammer… in the head! It’s like planning a hot date, and the other one doesn’t show up! Fuck, double fuck!

So, I remain with the lasagnas cravings. Every day the smell was killing me softly. Usually, we eat after lunch service, so if there is no lasagnas left I can go fuck myself! I had butterflies in my stomach when serving those lasagnas. I was like… horny over the lasagnas! I know, I’m weird with the food… but that is the word… horny!!!

Days went by… I was unfucked by the lasagnas and the desire was making my food hormones go crazy.  Till one day… the miracle was there. A holyday with not so much clients… so there were three lasagnas left… I couldn’t wait to take it home, so I just wanted there… at the table, right now! My own, juicy, greasy, hot lasagnas… my wonderful lasagnas… no foreplay, nothing… I went straight ahead with the first bite. I was hoping firework in my mouth and satisfaction in my stomach… I had one bite, two bites, three bites, like a savage… waiting for my taste papillary to start doing their job… and BOW!!!!…I hit my head so hard like fish jumping on a water bowl asphalt drawing. Nothing special, nothing that could give me that gastronomic orgasm I was expecting for. It’s like receiving a very big present box under the Christmas tree and inside you find only a pair of ordinary socks! That’s the feeling I got!

With the first occasion I got I went on a Chinese restaurant and got myself a healthy plate of noodles with all kinds of Ho Chi Min, Kung Fu, and Jackie Chan chicken and had my classic but sure orgasm!

Conclusion: Things aren’t always as they seem! Just because it’s pretty and shiny, and it smells good, doesn’t mean you hit the good stuff.

And I think that stands quite alright with people too. Or situations. I have high hopes usually. I trust people. I give them credit from the start. I don’t know why, considering today’s society where everybody will fuck you at some point (almost), but I do, I trust people. I want to believe the goodness in us still exists. And many times I’m disappointed. And I haven’t stop believing this. I do believe in humanity… still! I’m thrilled by new people, by new situations, new clothes… and I’ve never known why there or so many times when it turns to be not so good. And normally, then,  I feel bad. Disappointment is not the nicest thing in the world.  A person who seems nice is actually a snake, a situation can have many turn ups, and a dress you have dreamed for a month to have it makes your ass looks as big as Chinatown!

And over the years, I realized that I throw myself ahead without thinking. So, as Celine Dion says, Think Twice, would not be such a bad thing. First impression can fool you. I sometimes get so excited that my neurons are like… drunk. And when you’re drunk you usually call and text your ex… stuff like this that you regret when you wake up.

My point? Let myself a bit more time to know what I’m dealing with. Reflect before act. I think this would be a very mature thing to do. Accepting or not, I’m a young adult and as my best friend says: there are times when you simply cannot blame age, anymore. Wise words, my dear! Plus, reflecting before acting means not so many disappointing stuff, which results in happier life! Ta daa!!!

So, at the beginning of today’s post I’ve stated something: that you can always find time for the thing you love. Proof: The Lasagnas Theory was written entirely during a Saturday at the boutique. I have taken advantage of the Saturday’s quiet profile and I brought my notebook (a real one with sheets) and I wrote down between two clients! /

To be continued…



Yesterday after I have finished writing, I couldn’t sleep. It was stuck on my mind what I had wrote about weight and me believing that most of my problems comes from my weight issues.

We live in a society where the wrap is everything. I won’t be a hypocrite and say that I have a solid opinion about weight like… be proud of your curves. The only thing solid here is my body. So, most of my days are haunted by my weight frustrations. Who isn’t these days? I like to eat, I’m a sugar addict, and I’m the slave of food! Actually, it goes like this. I wish to be thin. It is the obsession of my life. To be thin. To be able to wear everything. Any color, any type of clothes. But that’s hard to achieve when you are me. I tend to associate any event, big or small, with food. For me food and sugar and even a bit of alcohol are life’s little pleasures. I cannot imagine a night out with my husband without eating, or a day in bed without sugary, a road trip without a picnic, a walk in a park without a snack, everything I associate with food and drink. Even the smallest occasion I want to celebrate it with food. It’s a culture. It’s a disease.So, losing weight turns out to be the hardest thing in the whole world.

I’m sorry. I’m trying and I’m trying to stay focused, but I’m really tired, so, writing about food and my weight problems would not be the most inspiring thing. Why should I force myself? A little angel on one shoulder tells me that this is how champions are born. By pushing their limits, by going over the edge, (sliding in the same time images with Rocky Balboa climbing the famous stairs) not by quitting at the very first sign of fatigue. And of course there is also the little devil’s voice who is singing me a lullaby. Not even trying to convince me of anything… just a sweet lullaby 🙂

So, my weight? I’m not happy with my body… But, there are times when my clothes are so tight and black that they make me feel thinner. So, I’m confident and all the garbage men are whistling behind me. And I become more confident. I feel sexy! I look on one or two plus size model, read an article, and voilà, a perfect day :). Too bad, that’s so rare I cannot even remember. So, I’m struggling to find the solutions.  To lose weight or to feel good in my own shape?

I think that this subject needs a lot of time and silence, two vital elements which are not my high point right now so I think I’ll just postponed this issue.

Sorry, we’re not super writers every day! /