Food is not magic by guest blogger Emily Threlkeld

Sometime during all this cooking*, I had a revelation: Food is not magic.

Yes, food can sometimes feel like magic. In most cities, at any given moment you are less than fifteen minutes away from an instant burger, fries, sandwich, or pizza. The only effort you have to put in is forking over your debit card.

But effort was put into that food, even if you didn't see it. Someone prepared it for you. Someone delivered the ingredients, someone put them together and made them presentable for your consumption. In the case of fast food, there are food developers, food tasters, and food scientists involved. Food scientists.

Before I went to Costa Rica, I was in Houston for a physical. It turns out that my cholesterol is high. Like really high. Not high enough to cause my doctor concern, but high enough that she suggested I work on lowering it. Then I went in for an eye check up and while my doctor was looking into my eyes through the phoropter, she asked, "So do you like eating sugars or starch?" Turns out she could determine my diet excesses by looking at my eyes.

In combination, those appointments made me realize that cooking at home is an important goal for me. My cholesterol tends to be on the high end of normal, and the amount of stress in my life recently hasn't helped. Throw drive-thru meals on top of that, and it becomes a problem. Even eating too many sweets has an effect on my body.

But here's the good news: If you eat out of your own kitchen, you kind of can't help but be healthier. Baking cookies and brownies is an involved process that takes far more time and energy than grabbing a box of them from the store, so there are likely to be fewer temptations sitting around. Fruit, meanwhile, is naturally sweet and requires no more preparation than a quick rinse under the tap. Chicken and beef often take more time and effort to cook than fish and vegetables, so you're more likely to throw some tilapia in the oven and make a salad for yourself while it bakes.

That said, I wouldn't recommend such a major shift in eating habits to anyone. I had to work the Saturday before I left for Costa Rica and it resulted in me cheating. I was on my feet for eight hours, which I expected, but then my relief called in sick and I was asked to stay for four more. After running around like crazy getting eleven brides started with their registries, I almost had to crawl out of the car and onto our couch. My husband was already there, at the end of his own long day. He offered to order a pizza for us, which filled me with a rush of relief. Once I was finished eating, however, I had another rush—one of guilt. "I really could have made that pizza," I found myself thinking. As Molly has pointed out in her "Cheeseburgers and the importance of indulgence" post before:

"The other thing that's important is not feeling bad about allowing yourself to eat that cheeseburger or brownie sundae. Because the worse you feel about it, the more you're going to want to do it again and again."

So true! Once I got back from Costa Rica, the pendulum swung back in the opposite direction. I went on a pizza, Panera, Taco Bell, McDonald's binge. I didn't go to the grocery store for a week. Without realizing it, I'd put myself on a kind of diet. I dedicated myself to an unreasonable goal. I'm back on track now, with the realization that sometimes it's okay to eat out, whether it's ordering a pizza after a long day or going to a nice dinner with a friend to catch up.

Restaurants aren't the enemy, as long as the kitchen is your close friend.

*In case you don't remember, I committed to cooking all of my meals at home for the entire month of February.

EMILY THRELKELD is a newlywed living in Raleigh, North Carolina. She's also a writer and a photographer who supports herself being a bridal consultant at Bed, Bath, & Beyond.

Faster than fast food by guest blogger Emily Threlkeld

I like to cook.

Actually, let me qualify that: I like to cook the way I like to write poems. It isn't about practicality, it's about self-expression, creating something from nothing.

So while I collect recipes that call for madeleine pans, lavender honey, duck fat, and hours and hours of my time, preparing a daily evening meal for myself isn't something that interests me. This presents a bit of a challenge for me since I've committed to cooking all my meals at home this month.

Making dinner is even less interesting after work. I enjoy my job as a bridal consultant. When a couple comes to register for gifts, I get to know them. I get an idea of what their lifestyle is like or what they want it to be. I help them figure out what they'll need to build their new home together. I walk them around the entire store and help them make smart decisions. In between couples, I help people shop from registries and gift wrap their selections. One way or another I'm dealing with happy people all day. But it does take a lot out of me. I'm on my feet all day, up and down ladders sometimes, running from one end of the store to the other. Most of all, as an introvert, connecting with people is something that takes a lot out of me. It's not a difficult job, but I still come home tired.

Over time I've developed two tricks that help me with the chore of feeding myself once I get home. Maybe they'll help you, too.

1. Keep your pants on. Literally.
Usually the first thing I do when I come home is change from my work pants into PJs. My work pants were uncomfortable in October, when they were just a little bit too tight, and they're uncomfortable now because they're so loose they're falling off me. I change into elastic-waisted PJ pants, kick off my shoes and sit down on the couch to relax. I notice I'm hungry, but as time passes I have less energy and less motivation to get up off the couch and do something. So how to avoid this trap? When you get home from work, as tired as you may be, go directly to your kitchen. Don't take off your work clothes, don't turn on the TV, don't sit down. If it isn't time for you to eat, get all your prep work done. If it is time to eat, start cooking. Or cook first and reheat later. However you want to do it—just make sure it's the first thing you do once you get home. (I know a lot of people love to cook once for the entire week, but living with three men makes that impossible for me. In our fridge, food is devoured instantly; ingredients are not.)

2. Collect practical recipes.
Keep an eye out for recipes that appeal to you. Move the efficient ones to the front of the pile. Twenty-minute meals, ten-minute meals, one-pot meals. Try some of those. Experiment. The more you make something, the better and faster you can make it. You can always try new recipes whenever you want, but it's important to have something to fall back on. Here are three of my current go-to recipes:

Sauteed Bell Peppers over Pasta
Adapted from Twinkle. Family friend, culinary genius.
Slice a bell pepper into thin strips. Cook in a pan over medium heat with olive oil and pepper until soft. Serve peppers on top of pasta—I prefer penne—and serve with plenty of Parmesan cheese on top.
Upgrade: Add some sliced sausage links on top. My personal favorite is chicken and apple.

Tomatoes, Tuna, and Couscous
Adapted from Jules from Stonesoup
Boil water in the microwave. Add couscous, cover, and set aside. Slice a pint of cherry or grape tomatoes and one or two cloves of garlic. Add to a pan with a can of tuna in olive oil. (Don't drain it!) Cook until the tomatoes are soft and the sauce comes together. Fluff couscous with a fork and serve with sauce on top. Upgrade: Add a handful of chopped chives and a drizzle of olive oil to the couscous when you fluff it.

Parmesan and Prosciutto Chicken
Adapted from Jamie Oliver
Have your butcher butterfly a chicken breast into two pieces. (The original recipe calls for just one chicken breast but American chickens are much larger.) Sandwich chicken between two pieces of plastic wrap and use something heavy to bang it down so the breast is the same thickness all the way around. Peel away the top piece of plastic and sprinkle the chicken with grated Parmesan cheese and ground pepper. Top with a slice of prosciutto. Pick up the chicken from the bottom and slam it face down into a pan over high heat. (The faster you flip it into the pan, the less your prosciutto is going to get out of place.) It takes three to four minutes per side and when it's done, the cheese holds everything together. Upgrade: Add fresh thyme and grate lemon zest on top of the cheese. Before serving, add a small drizzle of lemon juice, balsamic vinegar, and/or olive oil on top.

3. Keep your successful recipes somewhere easy to find.

I have mine on index cards in the kitchen. If worse comes to worse and I feel a fast food craving, I go to the cards. I can make all of the above meals in fewer than twenty minutes, minus the time it takes to boil water. Ask yourself if it's really worth it to get in your car, drive somewhere, order something, wait for it, pay for it, come all the way home with it and eat it. In the same amount of time or less, you can have a home cooked meal that's much healthier for you. And look at it this way: you've already bought your groceries. Dinner at home has already been paid for. Dinner out has not.

Hopefully one of those recipes will inspire you to go in your kitchen and make yourself something delicious. Tomorrow, maybe? Report back when you do. Extra credit for photos!

EMILY THRELKELD is a newlywed living in Raleigh, North Carolina. She's also a writer and a photographer who supports herself being a bridal consultant at Bed, Bath, & Beyond.

Don't even think about Lunchables by guest blogger Emily Threlkeld

Guest blogger Emily Threlkeld continues telling us about the challenge she has given herself: cooking every single thing she eats for the entire month of February. This week she explains how she handles homemade lunches at work. (Also included are photos of Emily's actual lunches for a week!)

So before we get to the hardest part about this month—dinner, in case you were wondering, although breakfast comes in at a close second—let's do the fun part: lunch.

There is no place more depressing to have lunch than in the employee break room of a retail store. You're surrounded by lockers, cleaning supplies, vending machines, and, in the middle of winter, other people's coats hung over all the chairs. It's not pretty, and yet lunch is my favorite part of the day. Not just because it's half an hour of quiet away from the needs of all the couples I try to pick out housewares with, but because I have become an expert lunch packer. So much so that my co-workers, who usually bring a Lean Cuisine or the remains of last night's pizza, always want to know what I'm having.

When I first started working, I invested $25 in a lunchbox. It felt like an unreasonable sum to me at the time, but it was really just the equivalent of two or three lunches out. I wanted to pack my lunch mostly to save money. Also, because we have such a short lunch break, I didn't want to spend my lunch break running out to my car, ordering something, shoving it in my face, and rushing back to work.

The problem is that I work in a shopping center. In less than one mile there is a great crepes place, a Chick-fil-a, Jason's Deli, a noodle place, and a fantastic Greek restaurant. There are probably even more awesome eateries that I don't know about. So if I was going to pack myself a lunch, it had to be good enough for me to resist temptation that surrounded me.

Here's the good news about making a lunch for yourself: No matter what memories you have of brown bagging it as a kid, you're a grown-up now. You know what you like.

I usually try to think of my main dish first. Some recent favorites include egg fried rice, curry chicken salad, stir fry, half a baked potato covered in cheese and bacon, and, because sometimes I'm in a hurry and don't feel like reinventing the wheel, a turkey sandwich.

Then I try to fill my lunchbox with fruits and vegetables, preferably fresh ones. Not only is this healthy, but it makes your lunch pretty to look at. Sometimes I even make myself a side salad.

Finally, make it nice. Pack a napkin, real cutlery. I usually throw in a piece of candy as a small treat. When I can, I throw something in the tiniest container in my lunch box. Sour cream, fruit dip. Partially because it's fun to interact with my food and partly because I love hearing, "Oh my God, she brought parmesan cheese to sprinkle on her pasta."

EMILY THRELKELD is a newlywed living in Raleigh, North Carolina. She's also a writer and a photographer who supports herself being a bridal consultant at Bed, Bath, & Beyond.

The February Challenge by guest blogger Emily Threlkeld

A good friend of mine—Emily Threlkeld—has decided to challenge herself to do something INSANE this month, and she will be blogging about it every week on I WILL NOT DIET. Read Emily's first post below to find out what that insane thing is.

As I type this post, there is a roasting pan full of a potato (thinly sliced) topped with an organic lemon (also thinly sliced), sea salt, pepper that I ground myself, and fresh dill sitting in my kitchen. In ten minutes I'll toss this all together, wait another ten minutes and then add two tilapia filets that I drove to Whole Foods to buy because the grocery store right by my house only had Chinese exports. I have nothing against China, I was just really hoping for fish that was in the same time zone as me.

(I realize how obnoxious that sounds, but I'm just doing my part to make the world a better place.)

But, on the other hand, last night I put off making dinner for so long that I didn't have any energy to deal with it anymore and just ended up eating grapes. I ate so many grapes that I gave myself a stomach ache. Later, around midnight when all the fructose wore off, I polished off the bottom of a bag of BBQ chips.

Yikes.

I'm not going to lie to you. Last night's "dinner" is a more accurate reflection of how I usually eat. It's just so easy to go out and get a burger or pizza or lo mein, or to stay in and snack on whatever will stave off my hunger until I can go to sleep.

But in the last six months, I've been trying to lose weight. My diet and exercise routines were so out of whack before then that just by walking a few times a week and trying to eat like something resembling a grown up, I’ve lost twenty pounds.

What’s interesting is that the more time I spent in the kitchen, the more weight I lost, and the better I felt. Not only that, but I started realizing just how expensive eating out was and just how little I could afford to do it.

So I decided to make a challenge to myself for February: I will eat no meal that isn't made in my own kitchen.*

Convenience food is okay, cooking from scratch is better, but absolutely no take-out, fast food, or even barista-made coffee.

I'm hoping this challenge will push me over to the good side of things. I'm hoping the extra pressure will motivate me to figure out a better way to do things, so I don't just cave every time I feel too tired to cook. I'm also hoping that I'll end the month a tiny bit thinner, a tiny bit richer, and a tiny bit healthier.

*Well, February minus one week when I'll be in Costa Rica. I have no idea what the food situation will be there.

EMILY THRELKELD is a newlywed living in Raleigh, North Carolina. She's also a writer and a photographer who supports herself being a bridal consultant at Bed, Bath, & Beyond.