I have discovered I might have an intolerance for chicken, of all things. I barely ate chicken for about 2 months because Chef Ex-Boyfriend hates it, and I'm largely indifferent to it unless it's fried. Anyway I had a buffalo chicken sandwich at the Cobra lounge last weekend and proceeded to fart and burp all night. Sexy, right? I figured it was the buffalo-ness of it. But then I had a grilled chicken salad (that I made at home) last night and same deal. This would be lame if it's true because chicken is such a cheap source of protein and I no longer have a boyfriend who takes me out for steak all the time. *sigh*
I've been (mostly) white flour/white sugar free this past week and feeling good about it. I discovered the joy that is agave sweetened coconut milk ice cream (I ate a serving and left the rest with a friend whose birthday it was). I also enjoyed the hell out of a Chicago summer favorite following Satan's own Bikram Yoga: Corn in a cup (elotes) with mayo, fakebutter, cheese and hot sauce, as well as a big cup of sliced pineapple, papaya and watermelon from the lady with a cart by the Kimball brown line station. MMmmmm, Elotes.