Are You Ready to Start an Evolution?

I dug into the January issue of Bon Appetit over the New Year break and was psyched to see it dedicated to “The New Healthy.” I felt like the NOURISH site was lifted to the Bon Appetit pages, and am SO psyched that the conversation about enjoying a life free of processed food and full of fresh, seasonal, real food has reached the mainstream.

But something stood out that made me say, “I beg to differ.”


Dan Barber, the Executive Chef and co-Owner of Blue Hill at Stone Barns and one of the pillars of the modern sustainable food movement, states in a chef photo spread, “The future of healthful eating is going to be in the hands of chefs, much more than nutritionists or doctors.”

I agree that lasting change is not likely to happen at the hands of doctors or nutritionists, but I personally don’t think it’s going to happen at chefs’ tables either. You know who’s going to make the tidal shift in America?

You are. You and me and every home cook doing what it takes to get dinner on the table during busy weeknights.

I don’t dispute that chefs will inspire us, and I am grateful for that. Here in Healdsburg, I’m continuously in awe of how Spoonbar Chef Louis Maldonado elevates local, seasonal vegetables and sustainably caught fish to a fine art (I just recently made this Brown Rice Mushroom Porridge as a riff on his version at Spoonbar). And I’m psyched to see him get national acclaim for doing so on Top Chef … did you see what he did with broccoli on episode nine of Last Chance Kitchen?

But real, lasting change across America isn’t going to happen with sous vide carrots. It’s going to happen with dishes like this Leek, Lemon and Cauliflower Fettuccine (I used whole wheat spaghetti last night and it rocked). With dishes loaded with vegetables that are easy to cut up and get in the pan. With dishes packed with so much flavor that the whole family tucks in happily without goading, and that reheat for easy, healthy lunches the next day. With meals that use only a couple of pots and a cutting board so they don’t take forever to clean up afterwards.

I happened to make this pasta last night with a gorgeous head of organic cauliflower grown in the garden of our local Shelton’s market, and I’m thankful to have that choice. But if that makes you roll your eyes and think it’s too hard or too expensive to buy local and organic … don’t feel judged! That’s OK. Do what you can. If you’re committing to buying organic at Whole Foods this year, terrific. If you’re just getting familiar with the outer perimeter of your local Safeway, good on you … you’re forging into new territory and that’s a good thing.

The point is, no matter where you are on your NOURISH Evolution, taking one step forward this year will make a difference. So make this cauliflower pasta … you’ll be changing the course of history when you do.

Life is Like Rhubarb and Strawberry

The combo of strawberry and rhubarb always makes me think of my Mom. Her strawberry-rhubarb pie would grace the table each spring as surely as tulips would burst from the ground. When I was a child, I turned my nose up at it for being so tart. By the time I grew up and learned to actually like it, it had become to me like a painting that’s hung on the same wall in the same place for twenty years–I didn’t pay it much attention.

I first made this crostata four years ago as my own spin on mom’s traditional pie. A year and a half later, in the dead of winter, mom had a massive stroke. There were no pies on the table that spring, and there never will be by her hand again. I’d be lying if I told you I wasn’t kicking myself just a little now, wishing I’d appreciated her version more while it lasted.

But those if-only’s only sour the present moment, which is quite sweet when I choose to see it as such. Whereas in the past, Mother’s Day meant a card and a gift exchanged across the country, now Mom–and Dad–live right here in Healdsburg. For the second year in a row, we get to celebrate with three generations of mothers and daughters in my family, and I can finally ask mom for her recipe … while serving her my Strawberry-Rhubarb Crostata.

At the risk of sounding a whole lot like Forrest Gump, life is like rhubarb and strawberry. A little bit sour, a little bit sweet, each one intensifying the properties of the other. There’s balance there, and both need to be tasted in order to embrace the full pleasure of the whole.

From my family to yours … happy Mother’s Day.

Can Oatmeal Make You Better At Math?

This morning, Noemi asked, “can I have oatmeal again, Mommy?” I said of course and pulled out Thursday’s leftovers from the fridge to heat up. But the eagerness on her face seemed beyond what a bowl of oatmeal would warrant.

“Why do you want oatmeal again, baby?” I probed.

She puffed out her chest. “Because I was so speedy in math yesterday. Mrs. P asked what I had for breakfast and I said oatmeal and she said it must have worked and that I should have oatmeal EVERY day.”

“A ha,” I said, stifling a smile.

I can’t guarantee this breakfast will make you better at math, but I can tell you it’s like waking up to a bowl of pumpkin pie. Only this version is full of fiber and nutrients rather than sugar. The recipe here is made with steel cut oats, but I’ve found it works just as well with faster-cooking rolled oats (I’d suggest passing on “quick-cook” oats, though; they get a bit too mushy).

I’d go so far as to call this my all time favorite oatmeal recipe. Although stay tuned; I’ll be expanding my repertoire … something tells me I’ll be cooking quite a lot of oats in the coming months.

Yes, I Have Chickens

I’m going to ‘fess up. I’ve been holding off telling you about my chicks (who are now nearly full-grown chickens). And you know me. You know I feel compelled to forge right past procrastination as an excuse and look for the deeper meaning behind the delay. So I’m going to peck away at my thoughts on this page.

I think at the root of my hesitation is the fear that people who know and love NOURISH Evolution for (rightly so) being a place they can feel empowered and inspired to make nourishing meals in real life will feel like I’ve gone off the deep end. That when I say “I’ve got chickens!” they’ll assume a tacit suggestion that if you don’t have chickens too then, dog gone it, you’re just falling short on the nourishing front.

So let me state plainly that this just ain’t so.

There is a fundamental way of eating that I believe everyone can and should benefit from, and that is the core of NOURISH Evolution. And then there are sidebars to that which are more hobbies or interests that are fun and great, but that aren’t essential to being nourished day in and day out. These are things we may choose to pursue when we have the time or an opportunity presents itself. Things like canning, or fermenting, or raising chickens or other animals. And I think it’s important to allow everyone the freedom to pursue–or not–these hobbies without feeling pressured either way.

So now that I’ve got all that off my chest, let me tell you about my chickens! Meet Pipecleaner, Butterscotch, Minnie and Speedy (of course we named our chickens!), who we share with our neighbors Jessica, Sebastian and Rosalie.

I have always wanted chickens. At least, ever since I lived in Greece. But we just don’t have enough space in our little spot. So when Jessica asked if Noemi and I wanted to go in on chicks together, which we would keep in their yard, I was over the moon. Our two families tromped off to Garrett’s and picked out our chicks–two fuzzy yellow Buff Orpingtons and two Ameraucanas (yes, the ones with the blue eggs!). We let them loose in a big trough set in the shower of Jessica and Sebastian’s cottage, which backs up to our back yard, and Sebastian and Christopher tore down a couple of fence boards and put in a gate. Noemi and Rosalie ran around, Jessica and I mooned over our fuzzy babies, and the whole affair rolled into a stellar dinner that featured a crazy grilled asparagus and mango salad, and Asian pork ribs. It was magical from the get-go.

Six weeks later, it was time to let our girlies roam. Sebastian built a little chicken coop out of salvaged wood, Jessica and I built a chicken run, and our little chickies continued to grow. They were precious. Early on, they’d all huddle together in one of the nesting boxes at night, like a big globe of fuzzy feathers. Then, one night, I heard them chirping when I went out to close them up in the coop. I didn’t see them in the box, but clearly heard their little peeps. Then an upside down head came into the beam of my flashlight and I saw eight little clawed feet behind it clinging to a dowel rod. Just like that, they’d discovered that they’re meant to sleep on their roosting bar.

We’ve had them now for about two and a half months and, as much as I’m looking forward to the eggs–which will show up when they’re between 4 and 6 months old–I’m a bit surprised by how thoroughly I’m enjoying the mere company of “the girls” (as are Noemi and Christopher … and even Dad!). Last night Butterscotch came up to me (she’s the most affectionate one of the lot) and nuzzled my leg while I rubbed the top of her beak and chest. They’re funny, precocious, sweet and an utter delight.

So I hope I have your permission to share my feathered journey here with you, without making you feel any way pressured to do the same. In the meantime, tell me, are there any “food hobbies” you’re dabbling in–or want to? I’d love to hear …




Pursuing a Passion

When life threw us a curveball at the beginning of the summer, Christopher took a solo retreat and came back saying, “I really feel like now is the time to volunteer for Common Hope.” In fact, traveling to Guatemala as part of a Common Hope Vision Team is something we’ve both wanted to do since we became affiliated with the organization back in 2000. I saw the longing in his eyes and heard the passion in his voice, and I said, “OK, you go.” It seemed impossible to me for us both to be so far from Noemi for a week. But as the days ticked by and Christopher began planning the trip, I recognized the bitter martyr in me raising her head and realized that not going wasn’t going to serve anyone, least of all my family. So Christopher’s “me” turned into “we” and I chose to entrust our precious daughter to the capable hands of those who love her dearly (and spoil her rotten!).

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I started bawling at first sight of the volcanoes, their cones black against the setting sun. It was like I was being torn apart. On one hand, I was overcome by returning to a place that houses my heart. On the other, I was saddened that Noemi couldn’t be with me to see the beauty of the country where she was born. But even as I had those thoughts I realized that Noemi would have her own reactions to Guatemala, in her own time.

The following day, our driver Luis picked us up in Guatemala City and took us to the small highland village of Pachay las Lomas. Mayra, who we’ve been helping get a college degree in social work for the past five years, lives in Pachay with her husband and son, Dimas Sr. and Jr. We’ve met Mayra’s mother, Ana Maria, three times before here in the States on cultural exchanges with Slow Food, but we’d never met Mayra, and had never been up to their village. The main highway, which we’d driven back in 2000, peeled off to a secondary highway at Chimaltenango, and then to a mostly dirt road spiraling up a steep mountain after an unmarked bridge. Breathtaking is probably the best word to describe the scenery in the Guatemalan highlands. The mountains are lush, woodsy and so steep they make you dizzy. Small swaths of cultivated fields cover the hillsides like a quilt; some plots ripe with corn, others with beans, still others with squash. And rising above all of this are the volcanoes. Huge, 13,000 foot cones that feel to me like Mount Olympus. This is where Mayra and Ana Maria live.

It’s testament to their characters that when we arrived, both of them were in different civic meetings. Instead, we were greeted by board members of the AMIDI foundation that Ana Maria founded in 2000 to improve the lives of indigenous women in Pachay (and beyond) while guarding their culture and traditions. We’ve helped the community from afar in many ways, including contributing to their scholarship fund to educate both children and adults, but nothing comes close to seeing what they’ve accomplished first hand. We saw flipcharts with agendas on how to achieve the goals they’re striving for hanging in the meeting house they built; we saw the coffee crops they had to replant following a devastating mudslide in 2010; we got a tour of the medicinal plants they’re growing, harvesting and drying. Then about a dozen board members (and as many kids) gathered with us up at Mayra’s house to share a traditional chicken stew called ‘pulique’. Our Spanish was terribly feeble, and most of the table was speaking their native Katchiquel tongue anyway, but somehow we all managed to express and receive what needed to be said. It’s amazing what hugs, looking in one another’s eyes, hand squeezing and a beach ball can do to transcend language. We ended the day at our favorite inn in the whole wide world (Meson Panza Verde), in one of our favorite city’s in the whole wide world (Antigua).

And that was just our first 24 hours.

The following day, after yoga at Panza Verde and breakfast in the middle of an organic nursery, we met up with the rest of our team at Common Hope headquarters, about 5 minutes out of town. I’ll admit, I was reticent. Christopher and I are not really “group” travel people, and I wasn’t so sure about sharing what was shaping up to be a very emotional trip with total strangers. But from the get-go, we were in lock-step in terms of faith, in terms of outlook, and in terms of how much we respected the people we were serving. From morning coffee sessions on the rooftop that rooted us in the right perspective, to belly laughs on the worksite and always being eager to lend a hand, to evening conversations that plumbed the depth of all we were taking in, I cannot tell you how much richer our experience was because of these six. Debbie, Jesse, Melissa, Joel, Bob and Carrie, you are incredible people. Thank you.

As for the next seven days? We built a house from scratch for a very sweet woman–who had earned it by working over 300 hours on the Common Hope campus–and her four children. One especially moving moment for me was when I was on my knees leveling cement tiles for the floor, watching the kids watching me and praying for each one, picturing each of them thriving on the floor I was laying, in the house we were building. Another was the blessing at the end of the week, once the house was built. Melissa had orchestrated a lovely ceremony which moved the mom to tears, and the traditional gifts of bread (so the house may never know hunger) and salt (so it may always have flavor and life) that I bestowed took on a depth of meaning I’d never encountered before.

Another highlight was visiting with our Godson, Rene Antonio, and his family. Rene has worked hard and been an exemplary student the entire twelve years we’ve sponsored him, and now he’s full of hope and excitement for the future. He even shared a team presentation he’d done for school on helping the environment; he wants to study communication in college to get the word out about how to make his community and country a better place. His mother continues to be an inspiration too. She recently “adopted” three terrific teenagers who were essentially living on the street. Now they all live in the one room house that she and Rene’s grandmother had worked to earn five years ago … and that we happened to be at on the day of the blessing the last time we were in Antigua … the day before we met Noemi for the first time. Talk about full circle.

An aspect of the trip that took me off guard was how much all I do here with NOURISH Evolution would come into play. Our fabulous coordinator, Kelan (bless him), saw my skill set and passion on paper and ran with it. He asked me to teach a cooking class for our team, and another for a dozen at-risk Guatemalan teenagers, and to cook a “snack” (chicken stew) for 50 kids in a poorer than poor village. The experiences were enlightening in and of themselves, but even more illuminating was the pattern that emerged through them all. Low and behold, up popped barriers to eating nourishing foods that don’t differ a whole lot from the barriers I encounter in the U.S. I heard, “There’s not enough time in the day,” “I can’t afford fresh foods,” and my personal favorite, “the kids won’t like vegetables.”

I was curious how the barriers would hold in a culture and economic situation so different from my own. I can’t answer definitely on time and money–I’ll need to do more research–but I can on kids not liking vegetables. The little ones woofed down bowls of my veggie-laden chicken stew chanting “rico quiskil!” (translated, “yummy squash!”) The teenagers in my cooking class followed me attentively through mini sermons on being mindful (“do you feel energized after you eat a bag of chips?”) and on basic nutrition (“the micronutrients that make vegetables look so beautiful and smell so strong and taste so wonderful are exactly what make them so good for you too”). And they polished off every last bit of our caramelized squash and onions, and sauteed Swiss chard with toasted garlic.

The following day, our last, one of the boys who was clearly a leader gave a moving speech as he thanked me at the farewell ceremony. And another girl from the class who had been quite shy with me (although quite flirtatious with the boys) came up to me and proudly declared she used her new knife skills cutting potatoes that morning. I beamed and hugged her and caught the scent of woodsmoke in her hair from the fire over which she’d cooked those potatoes. That moment captured all that I love about Guatemala. Our worlds may be vastly different, but we can still be close as people.


Hola … Regresso de Guatemala

I just returned from an incredible nine days in Guatemala with Common Hope. Highlights:

  • Visit to Mayra, Dimas, Dimas Jr., Ana Maria and the AMIDI crew in spectacular Pachay Los Lomas

  • Clicking from the get go with our fellow Common Hope team from Glen Ellyn, IL

  • Teaching a cooking class to ten teenage Common Hope sponsorees (is that a word?) and catching them sneaking extra bites of sauteed squash and Swiss chard
  • Cooking a chicken stew for 50 kids in the village of San Rafael, and having them chant “rico huisquil!” (yummy squash!) after being told numerous times that they wouldn’t touch vegetables (and in a rustic kitchen, using frozen chicken, in an hour and a half to boot!)

  • Seeing–celebrating–our God son Rene Antonio, who we started sponsoring when he was six and is now turning 17 and graduating from high school with a very rosy future ahead of him

  • Building a house from start to finish (and blessing) for a wonderful, deserving family of five

The trip–and the people we were with–inspired hope, thought, and lots of questions. More to come …

PS — If you’d like to sponsor a child (it’s the best $60 a month you’ll ever spend–education, healthcare for the whole family, skill and trade training, tutoring, the chance to ‘earn’ necessities like a house and stove, etc.) or contribute to the fund that sustains as yet unsponsored children, you can do so here. I can vouch personally on many levels for the incredible ways that Common Hope is working to empower people to pull themselves out of poverty!

A Whole New Meaning to “Mother”

I’ll be honest. I’m still getting used to the title of Mother. I think I went so long believing that I wouldn’t ever be a mother–not just for physiological reasons, but by choice–that when I did become one it took me a while to feel comfortable and competent in that skin.

It’s been five years since we brought Noemi home now, and I feel like I’m starting to make progress. But there’s so much gray in parenting that I often wonder. I’ve never been an overprotective mom, but in the early days, that stemmed more from the fact that I just figured Noemi had to be as safe, if not safer, with her dear daycare provider or the mom of a friend (especially if said mom had multiple kids) than with me. I felt so woefully incompetent. I’ve been on a gradual ascent out of that place over the past few years, but this spring finally popped me out of the pit.


Christopher and I have watched Noemi suck up any kind of teaching–intended or unwitting–all her life. When we first visited her in Guatemala at age 3-1/2 months, you could see the frown lines on her forehead as she tried to copy her Daddy’s OK sign (which she succeeded in doing) and she’d practice her razz so ardently that her lips would go numb. Now, Noemi reads anything put in front of her (she literally cried yesterday when I said the book she was working her way through the first page of was for Gammy and not her … it was Ann Patchett’s new novel). She’s always thirsted to learn and tends to challenge herself. It’s who she is. And as Christopher and I observed that trajectory, we started to feel she’d be more suited to first grade than kindergarten next year, but we had no idea what to do about it.

I asked for help. I asked for opinions. And I got both.

At first my “well I’m sure you know better than I do” mind chatter kicked in. But I started to realize that just because someone had an opinion didn’t by default mean they knew what was best for my child. I learned to take what others were saying and rub it up against my own experience with my daughter. Experience, it dawned on me, that no one else had. Experience that only comes from being the mother of your child.

When we were presented with the option to move Noemi out of preschool and into Kindergarten for the last trimester, I literally wept with relief. I knew at my core it was the right thing to do, and we’ve seen that played out by Noemi stepping confidently into her new shoes.

A few people have pushed me–hard–on the decision, and in the beginning I would analyze everything to try and divine whether we’d royally screwed up Noemi’s life. She cried once when I left the playground and I thought … OMG, she must have a latent attachment disorder and we’ve RUINED her by throwing her into a new setting–she’ll never be able to have a healthy relationship. She threw a fit about picking up her room and I thought … we’re pushing her too hard, she’s going to grow up resenting us!

Enough already. Sure, we need to keep an eye out for red flags and, if need be, adjust. But second guessing everything just eats at you; none of us can predict the ultimate path of our child’s life.

Knowing what I do of my daughter–before and after this transition–I’m confident we’ve made the right choice. And as gut wrenching as this all was to go through, there’s something else I now know beyond a shadow of a doubt. I AM Noemi’s Mom.



Rancho La Puerta … Take Three

This was my third year returning to Rancho La Puerta Resort and Spa in Mexico to teach at their La Cocina Que Canta cooking school. And, honestly, it gets more blissful every year. I’ll let the pictures and video clips speak for themselves.

The scenery and landscaping is striking, from tiny details to broad vistas. The natural beauty evokes a deep feeling of timelessness, while man-made additions–like sculptures that take your breath away dotted all over the property–drop you into the moment of Here. Now.

There’s a simplicity to the Ranch that instills serenity. Lines of nature are paralleled in various touches that feel as if they’ve been there forever.

And then there’s Tres Estrellas …

Tres Estrellas is the Ranch’s five acre organic garden, presided over by genius gardener Salvador (I actually wrote a poem for Salvador the first year I was there). Spend three minutes with Salvador and you’ll know that you’re with a man who has found his calling. He claws up earth to wax on about healthy soil and beams at rows of healthy eggplant as if he were praising his own children. It’s always a delight and a privilege to take students out into the garden with Salvador before cooking the ingredients he’s harvested for us (you can see a clip of that down below).

… And La Cocina Que Canta

Ah … La Cocina Que Canta. It’s heaven for cooking teachers and students alike. A gorgeous kitchen, incredible staff (that’s Gabby, Celia, Melissa and Alejandro there with me below … and my BFF, Julie, who took these pics and videos!) and all in all an inviting place to be.

Wish you could be there for a class? Watch these videos and you’ll get a taste …

It starts like this …


And then we head out into the garden …


Then I talk through what we’re cooking and give some mini lessons on nourishing principles …


And then we cook! In my classes, the students do most of the work, but here I’m doing a sauteing demo with some gorgeous baby zucchini (blossoms on) that we harvested from the garden.


I’ll see you next year at Rancho La Puerta!

Three Hours, Priceless Peace

As you know, we kicked off the launch of Nourish Weekly Menus last week with quite the event–5 days of giveaways on our Facebook page, from videos to e-cookbooks. It was awesome (I especially loved how the e-cookbooks turned out!). And I was EXHAUSTED.

Most of us, these days, run at a swift pace. It’s understandable; it just can’t be helped in our modern world. But it does make it even more essential to deliberately set aside time to recharge. And by Thursday of last week, I could tell I was definitely going to need recharging, and my sweet husband gave me permission to just sleep late and disappear on Sunday.

So I did.

I took off to the ocean, which, it never ceases to amaze me, is only about an hour away. Just watching the bars disappear from my iPhone felt freeing. Just having two concentrated hours to listen to a book on tape (The Three Marriages by David Whyte … incredible) felt indulgent.

The sun was strong and the breeze leisurely, so I lay out my blanket, stripped down to my bikini and soaked in the warmth. And for two blissful hours I didn’t have to corral my thoughts into focus, or answer rapid fire questions from my 4-year old every 20 seconds, or even move. I could just be.

I don’t make a practice of laying out in the sun–in fact, I’m normally a total wuss on Northern California beaches and bundle up in a jacket–but it felt especially liberating to me yesterday. When I was diagnosed with lupus in 1997, I was put on a drug that made me extremely sensitive to the sun. So the entire time Christopher and I were in Costa Rica on our extended road trip in 2000, I had to sit on the fringes of the beach, covered up in special SPF garb with huge, wide-brimmed hats. I remember watching other young women run along the sand and dive amongst the waves and feeling stifled and trapped. In my own body. It was the public manifestation of how far removed I felt from my own identity as I struggled to come to terms with having lupus, and losing the ability to have children.

That diagnosis was reversed and I went off the drug long ago and, like I said, I’m still careful in the sun. But the simple act of tilting my face up to the sky without fear still feels profoundly luxurious to me. You know what I mean? Do you have any little things you do that have an incredibly deep meaning for you?

Thank you to my husband for those three precious hours of reconnecting with who I am, now, here. Of re-inhabiting the healthy body I’m so grateful to have. And thank YOU for your incredible support with the Nourish Weekly Menus launch week!


PS — Check out what peeps are already saying about Nourish Weekly Menus:

“It was great to have easy recipes I could trust during the week to get good food on the table fast!”

“It was really fun to see what was on the menu each week. Once the shopping was done, the stress off my shoulders. The meals are fantastic, delicious and easy to make! Thank you!”


Want to Save 12,755 Minutes This Year?

I am busting out excited. Nourish Weekly Menus is finally HERE! And to celebrate, we’ve got a week’s worth of fun giveaways and terrific discounts going on over on our Facebook page. The first, on Wednesday, is a free video and worksheet on 7 Ways to Save 12,755 minutes this year and coupon for 5 FREE weeks of Nourish Weekly Menus!

So I thought for today’s post I’d give you 7 Reasons Nourish Weekly Menus will rock the way you eat:

  • It’s just what you need |  Other menu services give breakfast, lunch and dinner seven days a week. We don’t. The vast majority of people struggle most with getting dinner on the table Monday through Thursday, so that’s what we focus on. We carefully craft the week, using Sunday as a launching pad for making foods do double duty—saving you time and cutting down on waste. (You may be able to enjoy some tasty leftovers for lunch, too.)
  • It’s designed for weeknights  | Most of the weeknight recipes are on the table in 30 minutes or less … many with just a few minutes of hands-on prep. We also don’t assume you have a staff of sous chefs and dishwashers on hand (we don’t), so we think about things like streamlining steps and using as few pans as possible when we develop our recipes.
  • We believe whole foods can be “fast food” too  | We don’t take shortcuts with processed ingredients, because they often end up sabotaging with sodium, fillers, calories and fat that you wouldn’t put there on your own. Instead, we focus on seasonal vegetables, whole grains, and sustainably-sourced meat, poultry and seafood, along with smart strategies for making them “fast food” on a weeknight.
  • We balance your plate |  A big part of a nourishing lifestyle is a balanced plate. You get to feel great that you’re serving a meal with all the right proportions (and portions!)
  • You know you’re getting sustainable choices  | We don’t dictate your priorities, but we do steer you towards sustainable choices. All of the seafood we feature in our nourishing menus, for instance, are sustainable picks, and we use much less meat than traditional menu services.
  • You’ll get really, really scrumptious recipes  | This ain’t a “boiled carrots and baked chicken” type of menu service (you know what I mean). We’re talking delectable, scrumptious, nourishing recipes developed by me and Alison, two veterans of Cooking Light magazine. PLUS, gorgeous photos and eye-candy layouts that will get your whole family excited about the week.
  • We give you tools you can really use |  We asked a LOT of questions when we were concepting Nourish Weekly Menus, which allowed us to craft out how we delivered each week’s recipes in a way that really works. The exact opposite of a “drag and drop” approach, we give you a weekly menu chart with helpful icons to let you know what dishes will be doing double duty, which ones freeze well, which ones take less than 30 minutes, and which are yummy for lunch the next day. Then we give you a Menu Map with step-by-step flow for each night (Preheat oven, bring water to boil, while waiting prep vegetables, etc.) to help you get the timing right. And, of course, your weekly shopping list and recipes. The whole package works together to make getting nourishing meals on the table entirely doable (we’ll have more about how everything works together on our Facebook page Friday).

See you on Facebook!

PS: I’d love your help spreading the word! If you’re comfortable doing so, please let your friends know about Nourish Weekly Menus and our launch week by sharing this link on Twitter, Facebook, wherever you like. Thank you!