To Thine Own Self, Be Food

This post today is a small nod to my Russian readers of which, according to my stats, has been significant in the last few days. I know, the quick consulting of a map tells me that Georgia is NOT Russia...and Hungary is certainly not Russia.  Forgive me. What do I know about Georgian and Hungarian wine?  Nothing.  When I wander into a store in my state's capital city called "European Flavors", it takes about 3 seconds to realize I'm not in Kansas...er, Iowa, anymore.  Most of the foodstuff items in this store are wrapped in colorful papers and printed with a language I do not understand.  Oh, I have enough wherewithal to know that I'm probably looking at some kind of Russian or Turkish or Greek. Some kind of middle European anyway. In regards to wine, I like German Riesling, so I'm browsing the shelves, and luckily, the wine section is clearly marked out by country, and I do know enough to find myself a Riesling.  The bottle is in my hand when a h...

It was the best of times, it was the worst of times, it was the age of wisdom, it was the age of foolishness... While this oft-quoted sentence of Charles Dickens refers to the state of affairs around the time of the French Revolution, I think the same sentiment could describe breakfast here at Chez Nelson for the last two days... .... Okay, well, of course, when I really think about it for a moment, no.  I can't really say it's been the worst of times...at least I've been able to put breakfast food on the table for my family, which is more than some French peasants were able to do back then. Using Charles Dickens' book title seemed like a good idea, but then I started writing it out... Anyway, here's the story.  Whilst waiting in line to pay for groceries recently, I picked up (and bought) an issue of Prevention magazine, primarily because it mentioned the Wheat Belly book.  Along with the excerpt, there were a whole slew of recipes that were supposedly...