Carrie Saum

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Awash in the postpartum anxiety, I felt glued to the couch, unable to mobilize myself to get anything done except the bare basics of being a present.

Here’s a crash course on self-talk. Self-talk is the voice in your head, the invisible responder, the captain of your brain ship.

It was a life-altering mouthgasm of flavor explosions, and I totally wanted to pack my bags for India and Bali to have my own Eat Pray Love experience.

Visiting my family in the Sierra Nevada foothills is one of the great pleasures of my life. I get to work, cook, and play while my amazing folks keep an eye on my kid. My inspiration and productivity skyrocket when I'm able to step away from my version of the daily grind and get a little refocused and centered. The food I make tastes a little better, and I move a little easier without a three-year-old constantly in tow.

Lately, we have been struggling to feed ourselves good, healthful meals.

I also kind of feel like whatever I do eventually put in my body needs to be quality and filling and full of nutritious goodness. This is hard on mornings when it literally feels like all I can do to make toast. Sometimes I look at it, contemplate it fresh out of the toaster and briefly wonder if I really need to spread the almond butter on it. Because effort.

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.

I’ve paired cauliflower with my own vegan Harissa cream concoction for added depth of flavor, and enjoyment. Oh, and a fulfillment of the milky void.

Cloud eggs are something entirely different. I was worried that these magical looking eggs would just turn to soppy, scary oven nightmares. But these are actually Alton Brown worthy alchemy breakfast wins.