Losing Weight is Hard

Hey there! I hope you found last week’s journal exercise illuminating and that you were able to dive deep into your own past experiences losing weight (or at least trying to lose weight). If you missed the last post, you can check it out here and enjoy some quality, free-flow writing time to yourself. It’s all good– I can wait. 🙂

In today’s post, we’re going to tease out some common themes and beliefs around dieting, losing weight, and being healthy in general. These themes popped up in my own example, for sure, but don’t be surprised to see them applying to your own situation as well. (That’s why they’re called “themes” as opposed to “strangely specific elements that apply only to Dana Machacek”. Heh.)

Here’s the deal: what we believe about dieting, weight loss, and health all have a huge impact on our actual experiences. If I believe to the core of my being that a certain food is “good” for me, guess what? My body will most likely process that food with relative ease when I consume it. Likewise, if you’re convinced that you must diet in order to lose weight, and that dieting inevitably means a life sentence of deprivation and sacrifice in the name of smaller pants, well… that’s probably what you’ll experience, too.

Anyway. The reason why it’s so useful to write out your story is because that written account uncovers many of the thoughts and beliefs you hold about food, diets, losing weight, your body, and being healthy in general.  (And those beliefs, in turn, significantly shape your real-life experiences.) It might take some practice and some figurative archaeology to get at the juicy bits of your core beliefs, but once you expose some of the big ideas that you simply take for granted as “truth” or “the way things are”, you’ll find yourself in extremely fertile, deliciously transformative ground.

Yes, as delicious as this!

The first theme I’m going to highlight here applies to any and all answers regarding “the last time I lost weight”, so if you took the time to journal your personal experience, heads up: this core belief applies to you.

Belief #1: I’m not okay the way I am now.

It’s not necessarily an explicit or overt belief, meaning that you might not see those very words glaring out at you from the pages of your journal. However, the very act of going on a diet, trying to exercise more, deciding to count your calories, or vowing to cut out “bad” foods from your eating plan suggests that something needs to change in order for you to feel good about yourself. This also (obviously) implies a lack of self-acceptance or self-love for the way you are right now.

Deep breath. This feeling is natural. (Disheartening, yes, but totally natural.)

The theme of “I’m not okay” is an insidious one, because it’s often disguised under the glossy-haired, pearly white cloak of self-improvement, and what could possibly be wrong with wanting to be healthy or trying to manage diseases and health issues? Nothing! But if you withhold love, acceptance, and care from yourself until some indeterminate point in the future when you can finally prove to yourself that you’ve ‘earned it’– sweetheart, you’re setting yourself up for an ongoing war with yourself. And life is challenging enough without that cursed Self vs. Self battle.

Listen: it’s totally fine to want to make positive changes in your life, to learn, to grow, and to blossom into the most radiant, shimmering version of yourself. I want you to shine so brightly that you illuminate the entire galaxy with your glow! But it’s important to be kind and gentle with yourself from Step #1, too. Losing weight shouldn’t be punishment for your eternal shortcomings or a way to whip your pathetic ass into submission. (How well has that worked out so far?) Instead, think of yourself as a dazzling being already. You’re gorgeous, talented, warm, and magnetic right now, and you can only become more so with each loving step you take in the direction of health.

From now on, consider this your seat: XO, self. I love you already.

Belief #2: Losing weight is hard.

Chances are, your weight loss story featured some variation on the This is Hard! theme. Whether you’ve tried point systems, portion control, food combination rules, counting calories or grams, logging the number of steps you’ve taken, following lists of what’s allowed and what isn’t, skipping meals, breaking large meals into smaller and more frequent snacks, or eliminating entire food groups (carbohydrates, fats, fruits, etc.) from your diet before, you’ve likely bumped up against the belief that Being Healthy Ain’t Easy, Sister.

My personal experiences trying to lose weight definitely impressed upon me that an intricate, scientific, and exquisitely complicated system had to be followed in order to obtain my desired results. Significantly, this system was never something I invented on my own– it was always an external program that I selected and then applied to myself. Also, the idea that I could somehow deviate from the program was unheard of, unless I didn’t mind not losing any weight and therefore totally defeating the purpose of being on a diet in the first place. Ha.

Maybe your story highlighted one of these versions of the “Losing Weight is Hard” belief:

• Dieting is complicated.
• I need to do a whole lotta work in order to see even small changes in my weight.
• There is no room for error when it comes to dieting.
• I have to follow all the rules perfectly, all the time.
• Losing weight is time consuming.
• Dieting is expensive.

This basically sums up how hard it is– dieting is like crawling your way out of your very own grave!

Belief #3: My (in)ability to lose weight is directly tied to my value as a person.  

Here’s where it gets personal. This core belief is tied closely to the This is Hard! theme; however, rather than just dealing with the weight loss process itself, Belief #3 makes evaluations about ourselves based on how well we either adhere to a program or achieve results with that program… or both.

For example, we might feel frustrated with complicated and often contradictory lists of foods that are “good for us/allowed” and “bad for us/not allowed”. Belief #3 takes this a step further, judging us as good and worthy people when we eat the allowed foods but condemning us as bad and terrible people when we eat the foods that aren’t allowed.

Here are some other variations on Belief #3 that you might have noticed in your own answer:

• There is a proven formula for losing weight, and if I can just try hard enough and follow that program correctly, I will see results.
• If I’m not losing weight, I must be doing something wrong.
• If I’m not losing weight, I must not be trying hard enough.
• If I’m not losing weight, there must be something wrong with me.
• I’m bad/stupid/lazy/wrong for eating ________________.
• When the number on the scale goes down, I’m incredible and awesome!
• When the number on the scale goes up, I’m a worthless, no-good, stupid-assed failure!

Keep ’em coming now.

Revisit your story about the last time you lost weight, and try to uncover as many personal beliefs as you can about “what it takes” to lose weight or “the way things are” when it comes to your body, dieting, or being healthy. List them all out as though they were absolute facts or simple song titles:

Dieting is soooooo lame and superficial.

Feminists shouldn’t care about their weight or how they look.

Being overweight runs in my family: it’s genetic.

Being thin attracts unwanted attention.

Restaurants are off-limits when I’m on a diet.

Dieting spells disaster for my social life.

My body will be judged no matter what.

In the next post, we’re going to tackle what you can do with these core beliefs to either lessen their charge or to change and eliminate them completely. It’s usually not enough to just affirm the opposite of these beliefs to yourself. After all, you’re smart and extremely perceptive, and if– after years of believing that weight loss is hard– you suddenly start telling yourself, Losing weight is easy and natural for me!, your subconscious is going to call bullshit immediately. That’s okay– there are ways to work around that, and we’ll discuss some of those methods next week.

PS: Would you like some help distilling your themes and beliefs out of your personal story? If so, I’m happy to book a confidential session with you at no charge. All you need to do is e-mail me and we can set something up together. I’m excited to be working with several women already, but there’s always room for more. Thank you! 🙂

What Happened the Last Time You Lost Weight?

This is one of my favorite questions that Jessica Ortner posed in her best-selling book, The Tapping Solution for Weight Loss and Body Confidence, and it’s one that I savored the opportunity to answer in great detail for myself when I first started this coaching journey. Why am I so curious about past attempts to lose weight? Why do I even care what you’ve tried before or what unfolded during that process, aside from the fact that (obviously) “it didn’t work”? Shouldn’t the past be left in the past? I’m glad you asked!

When you commit to answering that same question– honestly, reflectively, and as thoroughly as possible for yourself– a whole world of themes, beliefs, and fears is revealed. We gain meaningful insights into why the diet(s) “didn’t work”, on both conscious and subconscious levels. We discover your unique ideas about “what it takes” to lose weight and to keep it off, as well as the golden nuggets: what you believe about yourself when yet another weight loss attempt fails. Priceless. So:

Here is what I wrote in response to that question. After reading it, I encourage you to take some time to yourself, to grab a soothing hot beverage to sip on, and to journal as much of your own story as you can. Write it down without censoring yourself or worrying about crafting an award-winning essay. This won’t be written for an audience and it certainly won’t be submitted to a panel of grammar judges, so just go ahead: write down what happened the last time you lost weight.

Over the next few blog posts, I will highlight some themes that can be teased out of your answer– food for thought, if you will. I’ll use my own answer as an example on the blog, but if you feel you could benefit from personalized coaching around your specific answer, you’re in luck! I’m offering free sessions around weight loss and body image for a limited time. You can e-mail me and I’ll be happy to set up a private session with you over Skype (you can decide whether you’d like to Skype with video or not).

My answer:

The last time I lost weight, I lost a whole bunch of it (almost 20 pounds) in a relatively short amount of time (just over one month). As is de rigeur for me, I wasn’t following one of the trendy diets (South Beach, Atkins, Paleo, etc.) at all, and I definitely wasn’t worried about counting calories or grams of anything. However, I was undertaking a very regimented “cleanse” type of process– an elimination diet. (You can read about that craziness here.) There was a gigantic list– 7 printed pages, to be exact– of foods that were uniquely “safe”, “neutral”, and “unsafe” for me, which I had obtained through a food sensitivity test. Being the A-student I’ve always been, I had committed to follow those test recommendations to the very letter, and I felt almost excited (thrilled!) to embark on a new culinary challenge. WATCH ME EXCEL AT THIS ELIMINATION DIET! I WILL EMERGE VICTORIOUS AND SLIM!

SEE ME WIN!

A few weeks into the process, yes, I was losing weight, but I felt that I was always in the kitchen, prepping the “right foods” and then doing the dishes afterward. It was a very systematic process, this elimination diet. There was absolutely no room for error, and no one else– not even my dear husband– could be trusted to keep the program unfolding properly. All of the shopping, food prep, meal planning, and raw sauerkraut making fell to me, but no one could have wrestled that control away from me even if they had wanted to or tried. Over my dead (but gloriously slender!) body. I needed to feel in control, even though the responsibilities of overseeing the Elimination Diet overwhelmed me.

Marty and I printed out calendars and stuck them on the kitchen wall– one for each of us. Every morning, we would weigh ourselves and write down our numbers on our respective calendars. I had penciled in ingredients that were being re-introduced or “tested” for each of us on specific days, and if we experienced any suspect symptoms (bloating, gas, heartburn, whatever), we would write those down with diligence, too. We recorded everything. I was losing weight quickly and substantially, and I secretly relished getting to see my numbers shrink while Marty’s stayed relatively the same or crept down slooooooowwwwwly. I win!, I’d crow to myself when I could knock a half-pound off of my weight, but on days when I’d stay the same weight or– gasp– gain a few ounces, I’d be crushed. Why isn’t this working? What am I doing wrong? This can’t be happening to me! It was torture.

This was around the time of the Mayan Prophecy (December 2012), and Marty and I were slated to go back to Calgary in time for the end of the world. (It was important to Marty’s parents that we all be together when the world stopped spinning on its axis, and who were we to argue with them? Or with the Mayans?) Marty’s parents were aware that we were on “a diet” before we arrived, and they fretted as they tried to locate vegan, gluten free, soy free, and sugar free non-perishables to stock for us in the basement, graciously preventing us from starving in case the power went out and civilization halted at the stroke of midnight. On my end, I was fretting about the visit itself. I could sense the disapproval of Marty’s mom from 1100km away, and I hadn’t even started packing for the trip yet. Inconvenient, newfangled, complicated, useless diets. Always failing in the end. Always managing to ruin Christmas dinners in the meantime. 

When we arrived in Calgary, giant knapsack of “safe”, “acceptable” foods in tow (just in case!), I was greeted with outright alarm, as though I was wasting away with a full-blown case of AIDS. You’re so skinny!, Marty’s mom exclaimed in sheer horror, mouth agape. Embarrassed and self-conscious, I tried to deflect her concerns about my figure with mumbles about how the elimination diet had been prescribed for us by a doctor and how it was (sort of) being supervised throughout the process. In the evenings, when I was alone in the bathroom, I would secretly admire my slender thighs in the full-length mirror and whisper a furtive Thank You to the universe for granting me that most coveted of prizes: slimness. Daytime was a different story, though– I was always apologizing for my lithe physique, offering empty quips about candida and sluggish digestion to anyone who approached me with question marks in their voices or eyes, and I basically affirmed on a near-constant basis that my body was only like this for temporary, medical reasons. I felt ashamed and burdensome to be such a culinary nuisance at my in-laws’ house, and I felt mortified well in advance for gaining back the weight– another wacky weight loss scheme, failed. Point: Marty’s mom.

It took me a total of two months to lose that weight and a mere two weeks to gain half of it back again. By then, Marty and I were on a road trip, heading south to the Arizona desert for sunshine, hiking, and relaxation. Before we even hopped into our van for the journey, I had already convinced myself with dismay that maintaining such a strict diet on the road would be difficult-slash-impossible. Lo and behold, I was right. During the two weeks it took us to arrive in Tucson, I didn’t deviate too terribly from my staple veg-and-grain fare. We’d stop in grocery stores and I’d buy hummus and baby carrots. As per usual, I’d slather avocado on everything and eat a small child’s weight in almonds. However, for the amount of weight that piled back onto my body in an alarmingly quick span of time, you’d think that I had switched over to an all-fried, all-the-time diet. Failure had taken hold.

I was mortified by this weight gain, feeling like a miserable, good for nothing elimination dieter and becoming anxious about being the only chubby person enrolled in Holistic Nutrition School (which I had planned to start that September). By the time our vacation was over and we were back in Canada again… I had gained all of the weight I had originally lost on the elimination diet back. A few months after that, too, I had put on even more weight, tipping the scales to the highest they’d ever been for my body, ever. (Note: that’s when I swore off any and all future diets, cleanses, fasts, and other food-based approaches to weight loss. I realized that my mind, my emotions, and my beliefs held way more sway over my body than actual food and calories did, and I couldn’t bear the idea of subjecting myself to any more exercises in willpower, self-control, self-discipline, and winning at diets. No more. Not worth it.)

Anyway. Overall, the last time I lost weight was characterized by:

• A distinct discrepancy between my private admiration of myself and my public apologies and deflections for the way I now looked.
• Not feeling like I could fully step into my slender body, owning it and totally rocking its beauty without shame.
• Definite fear about gaining back the weight– imagining my own failure in advance of it happening and then worrying about having to carry extra weight on my body as a veritable badge of failure. Visible to everyone.
• Signaling to myself and others that being slim was something to defend against– that it wasn’t safe to be slender. I wanted my appearance to be a non-issue amongst my friends and family members, but how could it be so when I was constantly on alert and continually scanning the room for comments or subtle facial expressions that needed to be defended against?
• Feeling the need to justify my weight loss (as well as the pace of my weight loss) to others in quasi-medical terms: “candida”, “gluten intolerance”, “dairy allergies”, “multiple food sensitivities”, and “absorption issues”. Regardless of how true or applicable these terms were/are for me, this only reinforced to my subconscious that ‘x’ degree of weight loss was either impossible at worst or unsafe but temporary at best.
• Comparison, competition, and being overly focused on people’s (real or imagined) reactions to me. I competed with myself (more! faster! better!). I compared my own progress to Marty’s (which makes absolutely no sense, considering I am a woman and he is a very athletic man). I projected all of my insecurities onto other people, believing them to be judging or criticizing me and my body.

Now it’s your turn.

In your journal (or in a new word doc on your computer), ask yourself:

• What happened the last time you lost weight?
• What motivated you to try to lose weight in the first place?
• How did you feel during the process?
• How did others react?
• What sort of program did you follow, and how did it feel adhering to those rules and regulations?
• Did you experience any ‘success’ on your program? If so, what?
• What about ‘failures’? If so, what?
• How long did the process take?
• What felt easy about the process?
• What felt difficult, like an obstacle that needed to be overcome?

Write down as much detail as you can, and once again, don’t worry about the flow or sequence of your story. (My story was edited here to make it more coherent and grammar-tastic, just so you know.) Next time, we’ll dive into some of the themes that can emerge from your answer. These themes might lead you to have lightbulb, ‘a-ha!’ moments on your own, but like I say, if you’d like more personalized support to explore your unique story, just let me know.

Corn Cakes: The Real Way to Win Friends and Influence People

This goes without saying, but I’m going to say it anyway: I am a huge nerd in the kitchen. Like, drastically nerdy. I am delighted by the most trivial of culinary things and experience big, swelling happiness over tiny details that (I’m guessing) most people don’t even notice. (Mason Jars, anyone?) I’m not your typical foodie, though. I don’t pore over glossy food magazines or experiment with complicated new recipes every week. Nah. I’d rather beam over a plate of simple steamed vegetables or marvel at ruby red grains of rice than I would hit up the trendiest new restaurant. Plus, I have a mile-long list of food sensitivities and a picky discerning palate, so it’s not very often that I can be wowed at a restaurant. I’m usually lucky if I can have one item (usually salad!) on any given menu, so Kitchen Nerdiness it is for me.

Exquisite!

Anyway. Why am I telling you this? I just want to remind you what a dork I am before I go on to tell you that THESE CORN CAKES ARE EFFING AMAZING! Sure, I’m totally impressed by these corn cakes and feel like a bit of a celebrity chef every time I make them, but maybe you ought to take that with a grain of (Pink Himalayan) salt. I think they’re cool, and I’m pretty certain my mom thinks they’re cool, too, but maybe you’re the type of person who needs more than a geeky, glowing recommendation for a recipe, especially when corn is concerned. That’s fine. All I’m saying is this: if you want to win friends and influence people at your next potluck or cocktail party, make these corn cakes. You’ll impress the hors d’ouevre police, you’ll win the hearts of your vegan and gluten-sensitive friends, you’ll probably win the “Most Delicious Item” award of the evening, and you’ll do it all while being deceptively delicious and healthy. Who knew corn could do all of this? I did. And now you do, too. Yer welcome.

It doesn’t get any better than this. Mmm… corn cakes!

Corn Cakes For the Masses!

(Recipe adapted from Christina’s original version at Fruit of Adventure here)

You Will Need:

• 4 cups water
• 1/2 tsp salt
• 2 Tbsp coconut oil (or other high quality cooking oil)
• 3/4 cup millet
• 1/4 cup organic polenta (corn grits)
• 1 medium leek, sliced into fine, short pieces
• 1 cup frozen organic corn kernels, thawed
• 2 heaping Tbsp fresh basil leaves, chopped (or 1 generous Tbsp dried basil)

How to Make Them:

1. Melt 1 Tbsp of coconut oil in frying pan and saute leeks over low to medium heat, until tender (about 5 minutes).

2. Meanwhile, in a medium saucepan, bring water to a boil. Add salt, 1 Tbsp coconut oil, and millet when water is boiling.

3. Slowly add polenta to the pot, stirring gently and continuously to avoid clumping.

4. Simmer millet and polenta on medium low heat (uncovered) for about 25 minutes, or until water is absorbed and millet mixture is sticky. Remove from heat.

5. Preheat oven to 350F and line a cookie sheet with parchment paper.

6. Add leeks, corn kernels, and basil leaves to millet mixture and stir well.

7. Use a measuring cup (1/4 cup to 1/3 cup) to form cakes with the millet mixture. (It helps to have a bowl of ice water at the ready to rinse measuring cup in between cakes. The cold temperature will help keep the mixture from sticking to the inside of the cup. Life-saving, really.)

8. Bake corn cakes for 25 minutes, or until they are slightly crisp/golden on the outside.

9. Serve with fresh guacamole* (and raw kraut, if you’re so inclined).

10. Prepare to amaze and astound your friends, dinner guests, work superiors, priest, etc. CORN WORKS WONDERS!

Corn cakes, pre-baking

*****

*… and if you’re wondering how in sam heck to make fresh guacamole, I do it in three minutes like so:

OMGuacamole

You Will Need:

• 1 medium to large ripe avocado, halved and flesh scooped out
• sea salt to taste
• red hot chili pepper flakes to taste
• lemon juice, 1-2 Tbsp (or to taste)
• handful of fresh cilantro leaves, washed and chopped

How To Make It:

1. Add all ingredients to a small bowl and smash with a fork. Done.

That’s it. And now you’ll be so savvy in the kitchen! You’ll wow EVERYONE!

Tiramisu for the Dairy-Free Queen

Oh, dear readers– I love me some Universal Magic! Remember when I first came across Leanne Vogel and her killer website? (If you’re wracking your brain and searching for clues, you might also remember this first encounter as The Guilty Peanut Butter Incident, in which I felt intimidated by Leanne’s ninja-like wizardry in her allergy-friendly kitchen. Yes! I just called Leanne both a ninja and a wizard. No wonder I got suckered into the “I’m Not Worthy!” trap. Never fear, though. I’ve since recovered and reclaimed my cool factor. I’m OK, she’s OK, and it’s all good. Promise!)

Anyway…

It’s been an honor and an absolute thrill to work with Leanne this winter, helping her share The Most Amazing Christmas Cookbook Ever with as vast a swath of the internet as we can manage. (I feel like the Christopher Columbus of the Internet lately– exploring uncharted waters, but now with less scurvy!) Who knew an awkward first website visit would morph into a lasting friendship and an exciting business experience? I feel like I’m in my very own sitcom here, Full House style. Happy endings for all! Thanks, Universe!

Back to the amazing cookbook, though. The e-book is called Christmas Dessert Freedom and features ten holiday classics made tastier, prettier, and more ninja-like than ever before. What’s Leanne’s secret? She’s banished all the dairy, gluten, grains, refined sugars, peanuts, corn, soy, and eggs from the recipes we’ve felt guilty about eating since the Dawn of Time.

Peppermint bark? Check!

Rum balls? They’re in there!

Shortbread cookies? Uh-huh!

Pecan bars? She’s on it!

Leanne has even managed to create a dairy-free, gluten-free, sugar-free version of tiramisu. I kid you not! (That recipe alone is worth the 10 buck cookbook cost. Seriously.)

Since I love a good challenge even more than I love this cookbook, I decided to attempt the Queen Recipe (tiramisu, obviously) to prove a couple of things:

1. Even a disaster-prone chef (like yours truly, ahem- almond milk mayhem! Cough, cough– sauerkraut carnage!) can create these recipes and have them turn out just fine.

2. You don’t need a mile-long list of alien ingredients to make the recipes in this book– even something even as intimidating-sounding as tiramisu.

3. You don’t even need all of the recommended kitchen appliances to make these recipes turn out right. I, for example, don’t have a stand mixer OR electric beaters. So there!

4. The recipes aren’t some half-assed shadows of the original, guilt-laced confections. They will still impress even the most skeptical of tastebuds.

So! Adventures in Tiramisu Making!

The full list of ingredients for the tiramisu includes cashews (I used almonds instead), non-dairy milk, coconut oil, coconut nectar, vanilla extract, lemon juice, apple cider vinegar, coconut milk, coffee, rum (optional but hello! IT’S CHRISTMAS!), cocoa powder, dark chocolate, coconut flour, and maple syrup. (Obviously, if you have an aversion to coconut, this is not the recipe for you. Same goes for people with nut allergies, though the e-book does contain 6 nut-free recipes, FYI.)

The assembly line in action!

Anyway. I started off by making a batch of Leanne’s Maple Shortbread cookies (recipe included in the e-book), and then I chilled some ingredients and mentally prepared to slave away in the kitchen all day. Let down alert: No slaving was necessary. The prep work for the recipe was surprisingly easy (even for me, who has a hard time making ice). You blend some of the ingredients together to make a “cashew cream” layer (almond cream layer in my case– I’m wicked allergic to cashews). You mix some of the other ingredients together to make a sinful “coconut cream” layer, and then you stack everything together in a loaf pan with the shortbread cookies and let it chill overnight. Seriously way less work than I was expecting. And the rewards?

Sheer decadence. And deliciousness. And divinity… and other great words that start with ‘d’.

This is Leanne’s photo, not mine.

I was worried because my can of coconut milk rendered a runnier “cream” than you would expect from the word “cream”. Leanne even had to give me a pep talk while my tiramisu was setting in the fridge, which consisted of the ever-encouraging words, “I hate to say it: but it may not turn out” AND the always-rousing phrase, “it may be a lost cause.” Ha. AND EVEN STILL: my batch turned out just fine. Delicious! Guilt-free! Impressive to my neighbors! Sure, it might not win any presentation awards from the judges on the Food Network, but tummies can’t tell the difference if the recipe still tastes delicious, right? My point exactly.

My tiramisu, collapsed on its side. DON’T LAUGH! It’s no Miss America in the looks department, granted, but hot damn, it’s DELICIOUS!

This cookbook is Leanne’s labor of love and her holiday gift to the world. It’s great for people who have special diets or a mile-long list of food sensitivities, and it’s great for the people who love them, too. It truly feels like the “Get Out of Jail Free” card of Christmas– a way to actually partake in the holiday festivities without feeling gross or guilty afterward. Christmas Dessert Freedom for the win!

Cookbook Particulars

• $10 USD per copy
• 10 revamped recipes of holiday classics (vegan, paleo, gluten-free, all-around miraculous!)
• 35 pages, full color PDF
• Totally effin’ incredible!

As the helper elf to Leanne’s Santa (or something…), I get to share in some holiday abundance for everyone who makes a cookbook purchase through the links in this post. In other words, I’ll get a few bucks if you decide to buy the Christmas Dessert Freedom cookbook based on this review of it. Don’t be fooled by my pathetic-looking tiramisu, either: IT TASTES GREAT. You know I wouldn’t even be involved in this project if it wasn’t totally awesome, let alone pimp it out on this here blog. I promise the cookbook is amazing. I promise you can impress your friends and family by making any/all of the recipes in the book. I promise you can become a Christmas ninja, too.*

*Actual ninja-ness may vary. Also, if you have super grinches for friends, their level of being impressed by your kitchen wizardry might vary, too. Jerks!

Your turn, dear readers: Is guilt a regular part of your typical holiday experience?

What’s your favourite holiday treat?