WellCommons

My friend Jennifer, of "As I See Fit" fame, reminds me often that "Breakfast is King, Lunch is a Prince, and Dinner is a Pauper." I have a hard time remembering this sometimes, having long been ingrained with the idea that the evening meal is the finest of the day. It's hard, because we sit down with our families for the evening meal - likely the only time of day we do that, so we want that meal to be more special than the others. Or, at least, I do.

So in order to try to accomodate the "eat less in the evenings" dicta, but still enjoy our evening meal as good quality time, I've had to come up with some new ways of doing things. One of those things is that I've made breakfast special. I usually wait to have breakfast until 9:30 or so, even though I get up at 6:00. I know that won't work for everyone, but that is the time of the day when my body starts telling me it's hungry. Also, if I eat earlier, I am ready for lunch at 10:30 and that just won't work.

Breakfast

At breakfast, I usually have an omelet. I prefer Egg Beaters because they have a low Points Plus value, but egg whites are just as good. I load that sucker up with veggies and meat - either chicken or bacon or both, and cook it with cooking spray, not butter. It usually only costs me 3 or 4 so Points Plus Values but it's large and filling and makes me feel happy about the meal instead of depressed or deprived. One egg (with yolk() has a Points Plus Value of 2, so even if you can't get your hands on an omelet, you can have two hard boiled eggs for those 4 points, and that is a filling way to get your day going with a protein boost. Also, you can do them in advance and they travel well.

Lunch:

I often incorporate eggs in my lunches, especially for weekend lunches at home. A fried egg (I like to leave the yolk runny) and a little lowfat cheese and maybe a slice of tomato or avocado on a sandwich thin is a perfect balance of carb and protein, and will cost you 6 points (7 with avocado). It's filling, fast, and delicious. Pair it with some fruit, a few baked chips and some salsa, or a bowl of steamed broccoli and you've got a well-rounded meal for few points.

Dinner:

I love breakfast for dinner, but since dinner is supposed to be a pauper, I try not to go for pancakes or waffles or other sugar-laden items. I have been known to whip up breakfast pizzas on homemade whole wheat crust (which I usually make in advance and have several of in my freezer). Just make a little pizza sauce (easy to make without even cooking out of canned diced tomatoes, basil, salt, and red pepper), and brown some chicken sausage or ground turkey. Roll the crust very thin - I do it cracker-like to reduce point values, spread the sauce on, top with meat and veggies (low-fat cheese if you want, though I usually skip it) and pop into a 425 degree oven for 8 minutes. Then remove the pizza, and crack four eggs on it, and pop it back in the oven for 5 minutes. The eggs will be perfectly cooked with runny yolks that add that decadent creaminess to the pizza without needing cheese. I usually cut a little fresh basil on top for extra flavor and color.

One piece of this pizza (including one egg) is 6 points plus, assuming you used low fat turkey.

The beauty of the egg is that it's filling, it's hot, and the yolk is buttery, so you get some of those fulfilling properties without breaking the bank on points or calories. Obviously you shouldn't eat eggs for every meal, but they are versatile little suckers and provide a lot of much-needed protein to quick meals. They're not just for breakfast!!

I'm going to try to post here semi-regularly about the things that have really helped me along my weight-loss journey.

As I go, I find things that work for me. Of course, the same things don't work for everyone, but sometimes there are foods and preparations out there we didn't even know about. I've had some real breakthroughs thanks to the sharing of my Weight Watchers group and my friends who have done the program in the past.

sandwich thins by meganstuke

My favorite thing, my absolutely best go-to item is the whole wheat sandwich thin. I use them alternately for breakfast, lunch, and dinner. They're a miracle.

Examples:

Breakfast

Sandwich thin egg "pizza"

Spray a little cooking spray in a non-stick skillet. Toast one side of a sandwich thin. (sandwich thins cost 1 point for half of one, 3 points plus for a whole "bun").

In that same skillet, toss some chopped veggies (I usually use mushrooms, pico de gallo, and maybe black olives) and a little bit of those Hormel bacon bits the bag. The bacon is 1 point for a tablespoon. Cook the veggies and bacon, then add in one egg white and stir it in with the mixture. Plop it all on the sandwich thin. It's a filling, excellent breakfast for 2 or maybe 3 points plus, depending on how much cooking spray you used.

Lunch

Hilary's Eat Well Veggie Burger.

Once again, cook it in a skillet with a little bit of cooking spray. (If you are at work, a microwave will do or a toaster is better.) Toast the sandwich thin the same way. I eat mine with BBQ sauce and red onion. I do a side of steamed veggies. Total points plus for lunch: 7.

Dinner

Grilled Chicken Sandwich

These save me when we are grilling burgers or chicken breasts. I can put together a mean sandwich with avocado slices, a sprinkling of low fat cheddar cheese, a seasoned and grilled chicken breast, and some onion and dijon mustard. Total points plus for the chicken sandwich: approximately 10, depending on portion sizes.

Snack

Hummus on "Pita"

On nights when I don't have time to cook and just need a quick bite to eat before I go for a walk or off to an appoitment, I like to toast a sandwich thin and smear on some hummus. If I'm really getting fancy I'll chop a little avocado on top or a little red onion or a layer of spinach. For just the 2 sides of sandwich thin and hummus and veggies, though, without added avocado, you spend 5 points plus. It's filling, delicious, and takes about two minutes to put together.

(Hint: a friend brought some guacamole hummus over the other night. SAY YES.)

"Happy wife, happy life."

"If Mama ain't happy, ain't nobody happy."

"Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned."

You get the idea. We women have quite the reputation. With Mother's Day approaching, I got to thinking about some of this. I cannot tell you how many women I have talked to over the years about their boyfriend/husband laments in the holiday/gift department. I have known some seriously angry women when their husbands either completely forgot the birthday/mother's day/anniversary/what have you, or just do a poor job of executing any kind of meaningful gift or celebration in her honor.

And I get it. My friends are over achievers. We think for months in advance about what to do for birthdays or father's day. We make his favorite cake, throw a party, dry age steaks, offer to take the kids away while he golfs 18 holes, plan plan plan. We ask him weeks in advance what he wants, and have that new hedge trimmer ordered so it's on the doorstep before the special day hits.

So it's easy to be hurt and angry when our special days are forgotten or barely given a passing notice. To this, I tell my friends to take control. TELL HIM WHAT YOU WANT. HE WILL DO IT. I tend to send my husband emails with links to jewelry I like, or even just say, "Here is what I want." This year for Mother's Day, I told him I wanted him to plant rose bushes and lilacs in the front yard while I go get a mani-pedi.

I know, I know, it seems counter-intuitive. I hear the refrains already. "I do everything the way it is! Is it too much to ask that he plan Mother's Day for me?" No, it's not too much to ask. And maybe he will do it. But will it be what you want? Will it satisfy you, when what you really wanted all along was a mani-pedi and some pretty new landscaping? He might bring home an ice cream cake and a silver bracelet that doesn't really go with anything you own. Yes, it's the thought that counts, and all of that is very sweet, but I'm on a diet and bracelets bother me - they get in the way of typing and cooking.

Men are not women. If we are honest with ourselves, we love and enjoy planning his birthday parties and father's day fetes, and truth be told, we usually get something fun out of it ourselves (like a party with all our friends or a weekend off of working in the yard while he golfs). Would it be nice if The Men took a little more notice of our efforts, tried a little harder to make things special? Yes, yes it would. And here's hoping they all pull it off. But just in case, don't be afraid to tell him what you want. Nothing is more irritating than a woman who has her mind set on something and hearing her say "I just expect him to know. He should KNOW me well enough to get this right!" He does know you, Honey. He just doesn't know you want a birthstone ring for Mother's Day. You're gonna have to help him.

And I know, I know, some of you will respond that "My husband gets it perfect every year! He's the best!!" And some of you men will protest that I've generalized and it's not fair. Well, this article is not for you. This is for the rest of us, who have to be creative if we're gonna stay happy. And it's for the rest of you men, who just now realized that Sunday is Mother's Day. I promise you, your wife has not forgotten. She's been drumming her fingers for days, wondering if you are going to ask her what she wants or plan a nice brunch or what, if anything, will happen on her special day.

AHEM, MEN. MOTHER'S DAY IS SUNDAY. CONSIDER YOURSELVES REMINDED/WARNED.

Breakfast in bed is a good place to start.

Happy wife, happy life.

diet by meganstuke

Thinking about losing weight? Thinking about starting a new diet or workout plan?

My advice to you: stop that. Stop thinking about it.

For me, nothing is more counterproductive to my success in dieting and better health than over-thinking it. "Thinking" about dieting, at least for me, goes something like this: "Hmmm. I'm hungry. What's for lunch? Oh, there's roast beef and mashed potatoes in the cafeteria. That sounds really good. But I am feeling pretty pudgy these days, maybe I should have a salad. But I am too hungry for a salad. But dude, I really hate being this fat." Then cue the music to "Ten Things I Hate About You." "I have no self control. I eat too much, I never work out, I'm so fat, I'm so ashamed of it. I know people judge me when they see my plate. I know my pants don't fit well anymore. I can't believe I let myself get this fat. I can't imagine living without bacon or mashed potatoes. I must be defective because I don't do what my fitter, healthier friends do. There is just something wrong with me."

And by the time all of that inner dialogue has happened? By the time I have "thought" about dieting for a few minutes, I'm utterly destroyed. I've just told myself that it's futile and I'm just destined to be fat (and therefore, for me, unhappy). And since it's just my density (har har), I might as well go ahead and have that mashed potato and roast beef open-face sandwich with extra gravy.

Thinking about dieting is the worst possible thing I can do. Thinking about dieting makes me think about how MANY pounds I have to lose. It makes me think about my dieting failures in the past. It reminds me of how far I have to go and how deprived I'm bound to be. It also reminds me that I am still sitting in my chair, doing nothing, except thinking, which is basically akin to feeling guilty.

So if you are thinking about dieting, STOP IT. Don't plan to diet. Don't talk to yourself about dieting. Just do it. I know, I know. It's a cliche. And here's another one: dieting is a one-day-at-a-time proposition.

When I started Weight Watchers I hadn't been thinking about dieting. I had, in several months past, been thinking about losing weight, and I'd gotten so down on myself I'd given up. I had just resigned myself to "This is the deal. This is how I look. Learn to live with it." So on the day when I got an email about a Weight Watchers meeting at work, I didn't have time to think. I just got up, grabbed my purse, and went to that meeting. I figured I wasn't really going to do it, but I'd hear them out. I figured I'd prove to myself and everyone once and for all that I am just a victim of genetics and thyroid disease and there's no way I was gonna take these pounds off.

And I got on the scale. And rather than being completely shocked, I just went, "Yep, it's that bad. Guess I'll skip the burger at lunch." And that is how it started. Once I skipped that burger, it was pretty easy to skip the next one. "Hey, I'm eating healthy lunches, and it's not killing me."

And lo and behold, the scale reflected it. But I still never thought, "I'm planning to lose 60 lbs. I'm never eating a burger again in my life." I just kept on, feeling like it wasn't so bad to skip the afternoon cookie or the butter on my vegetables. But tomorrow, tomorrow. I might have that butter tomorrow. It's not out of the question.

And voila, I lost almost 30 pounds in 15 weeks. And you know what I did then? I started thinking about dieting. I started setting long range goals and guess what happened: I gained a little last week. I let myself get depressed about how much more I had to lose, instead of focusing on what I had lost, and the one-day-at-a-time motto. I got bogged down in "This is going to take too long," and "It feels futile" - which was an all too familiar monologue.

My own worst enemy, that's for sure. In the face of more encouragement and support than I could ever ask for, I managed to start thinking about dieting and self-sabotaging.

So I'm back to Plan A. Don't think about it. Just do it. This is one case where it is not mind over matter. Get your minds out of the gutter, as it were. The dieting gutter - it is a dirty, filthy, ugly place.

So, it might be a little early. Like, maybe 16 years too early, but I've been talking to my son about career choices.

careers by meganstuke

I like to whisper in his ear, whenever he's spaced out watching "Mike the Knight" (our newest television battle), "Architect, MD, Engineer. Architect, MD, Engineer." Repeat. Repeat repeat repeat. I figure the subliminal messages are probably sinking in. I mean, they say this is a great age to be teaching him a second language. I figure the brain theory is the same. Let's teach him to think he's strong in math and science, and can pursue a career that will actually make him some money.

I KNOW! I KNOW! But what if he wants to be an artist? What if his dream is to be an actor? What if he just feels like a medieval history major? I should be encouraging his passions, right? Telling him the world is his oyster? Singing the praises of personal victories with a refrain of "money can't buy happiness", right?

Ugh.

You know what? I was that poet-type. I wanted to save the world, and wear huaraches. When I was young I snoozed through algebra class and complained that I'd have no use for chemistry in life. I didn't care about money! I was going to be an actress! Or a teacher! I would live on love!

And now, I am a grown woman with a lot of education and very little earning potential, and I AM SO MAD AT THAT GIRL. Because guess what? We can teach, or paint, or write, or take pictures WHILE we are making livings as doctors and engineers. Livings that provide for our families and leave wiggle room for a little fun and enrichment in life. Fun that the rest of us can't afford. Fun like travelling to Europe or taking a "real" vacation every summer. Livings that don't leave us quaking in our beds at night worrying how we'll afford retirement or what will happen when we need a nursing home. Oh, perchance to sleep and dream.

And it doesn't mean that career in art or that degree in the music of the Igbo Tribe can't ever happen. It just happens after we achieve fall-back status. AFTER we know we are going to be able to make some money if the art thing doesn't work out, or the Igbo Tribe isn't interested in our theories.

So maybe I'm early. And maybe I'm a controlling parent who squelches creativity and will terrify my son with my high expectations. But that is a risk I'm going to take.

It's not that I don't believe that one cannot be happy on a teacher's salary. I know that is not the case. But I want for him an iota of stability and comfort. I want him to be better off than his mom and dad, and I want to be sure he has retirement and health insurance IN THE BAG. Call me crazy.

Of course, at the end of the day, it's all up to him. He will be who he will be and I will love and encourage him no matter what, so long as what he's doing is legal and at least somewhat productive. But that doesn't mean I can't provide an upbringing that says "You CAN be a doctor. You CAN be an engineer. OF COURSE YOU CAN." That suggestion, it is a powerful thing. And isn't that what we do as parents, from a very young age? We help shape our kids into our visions of healthy and successful. We teach them to say please and thank you and to share their toys because we feel that is the best way to be. We teach them values and impart to them the relative wisdom of our years.

Well, Johnny, the wisdom of your mother's years says that you need a degree that will pay off. Especially considering the student loan situation these days.

I think we undervalue the value of financial peace. We all know that one of the main causes of depression and divorce is finances. I know that all of us have problems - rich or poor or somewhere in between. I know that. But I think this is a problem that is somewhat avoidable. If we are all to deal with relationship stresses and health stresses and all the stuff we can't control, wouldn't it be nice to be handling all that without a backdrop of financial insecurity?

To me, this is part of my role as his parent - to prepare him for the reality of life. I want him to appreciate beauty and enjoy art and have hobbies and passions. And I want him to be able to afford to enjoy those things, while he also enjoys food on his table and a savings account for a rainy day.

And so I will whisper those words into his ear. I'll let him grow up in a house where we say words like "Harvard" and "Northwestern" on a regular basis. And hopefully the prophecy will be self-fulfilling.

my anchor by meganstuke

My Weight Watchers meeting last week focused on finding an "anchor," or something that we can focus on to bring up reserves of willpower when we are getting wobbly in our resolve to reduce.

I only half-jokingly said I just thought about a swimsuit, and remembered that our pool will be ready for swimming in the next few weeks. I thought about all the reasons I've been able to stick with my diet for the last 3 months and I sadly thought about my waning enthusiasm for the project.

At first it was exciting. I would lose four or five pounds in a week. I enjoyed obsessive compulsively counting my points and entering them into my online tracker. I was energized about shopping and meal planning and saw parties and big eating events as challenges to conquer instead of reasons to back away from my goal. I wish I could say that 12 weeks in, I still felt that way.

I still want to lose weight, and I'm still plugging away, but after several weeks of 1 or 2 lb losses, and this week, wherein I actually GAINED half a pound, the romance is slowly dying. Hello Weight Watchers, I'm putting on my comfortable flannel night gown before I go to bed with you. We are in that phase of our relationship. You are nice, and I still like you, even love you, but this thing isn't exactly on fire anymore.

So what do people do when their relationships get a bit tepid? They plan vow renewals! They spice it up! They buy some lingerie or go on a hot date.

And so, that is what I'm doing. I'm having a vow renewal with Weight Watchers. Tonight, I will ceremoniously get rid of all the too-big clothing in my closet as a symbol of my commitment to never wear that size again. I will cook myself a healthy and fiber-rich dinner, and dance with my point calculator. And, just like brides who buy too-small wedding dresses as a goal to fit in them by the time of the ceremony, I will order myself a swimsuit. An anchor swimsuit in a size I haven't seen in probably ten years. And I will stare at it every day, whenever I think of leaving my Weight Watchers steady for a sexy piece of chocolate.

So, I've been on this diet for a little over two months. And I've talked a lot about it. I'm the first to admit that I ran screaming into the internet, all "HEY WORLD! I'M DOING WEIGHT WATCHERS!" As if anyone really cared.

My hope was that if I could be honest about my weight struggles and my solutions and failures, I might help others to try to take a few steps of their own. Or at least find some more people to talk to about my own journey. The village, you know, and all that.

But here is what I do not want to do, hope I haven't done already, and please slap me if I start. I do not want to start proselytizing about food. About what people should eat, about what diet to try, what is good or bad or in between. My goal is to say, "Try something. It just might work." My goal is to say, "If I can do it, so can you." It is not my goal to tell you what to eat, what diet to do, or to be overly aggressive in any one message. When people ask me how I'm doing it, I say, "I eat less." I mention that Weight Watchers has helped me to do that. That's it. Find your own way. Eat the all banana diet. Go on Jenny Craig. Get hypnotized. Whatever.

Nothing, aside from religious zealots banging on my door and asking if we're going to heaven or hell, bugs me more than an over-ambitious food-convert-turned-food-evangelist. It's not that I'm not willing to learn about various theories of healthy eating or weight gain/loss. It's the way, and the frequency of the delivery that gets me.

You don't eat meat? Great. You don't eat gluten? Fine. You don't like dairy/fat/processed foods/anything white? ON YOU GO! I'm sure it's working splendidly for you. Whether you are on a carb-free diet or a Paleo diet or an all-organic diet or a liquid diet, I don't really care. Good for you, I hope you feel healthy and energetic, and the pounds are melting away. And I want to hear about it, sort of. I want to hear that you feel better. I want to congratulate you on your success.

What I do not want is to hear you groan when I raise my chicken sandwich on a wheat bun to my lips. I do not want you to regale me with stories of how I'll never lose any weight if I let that grain pass my lips. I do not want to be preached to about the evils of food I didn't prepare with a mortar and pestle. Oh my god! There's HFCS in that! YOU ARE GOING TO DIE! And it's not just the vehement nay-saying that gets me. It's the judgement. Eating meat/grains/dairy/eggs not hatched in my back yard must be akin to a mortal sin, and I must be a heathen not worthy of tolerance. The scorn! The revulsion! The holier-than-thou-ness of it all!

Many of us, it seems, understand clearly that pressuring people to join (or not join) one religious group or another is unsavory and downright rude, but we do not apply the same tolerant, well-mannered rules to food and eating. We are fattists. We are disdainful of people who don't adhere to our food or exercise religions. "Eat a salad! Go for a walk! What is wrong with you?"

These attitudes, friends, are NOT. HELPFUL. Ask anyone who ever had a significant amount of weight to lose how well they responded to judgments, accusations, or scorn. Ask someone who is trying to make a positive diet change how successful she will be if she's constantly met with "No, you aren't doing it right."

Also, it's just annoying. Not only does it undermine success, but food prostelytizing is just downright aggravating. Talk about something else. We get it.

My friend Lindsey asked me the other day if I had a song that I loved that had been ruined by someone or something, so now I can't listen to it at all.

DO I? DO I!?? I launched into a long and winding story about a boyfriend I had in my twenties, he who was getting a PhD in violin and music theory, and he who was also a handyman and drove an old Ford F-150, and who also, in his spare time (which was a lot, it seemed to me), listened to Bob Marley. He was a nice Jewish boy from Ohio, and somewhere along the way had decided that for him? Rastafarian was the way to go. Not to ever try to squelch someone's spiritual path, I listened to some reggae with him. Actually, it was a LOT of reggae. More reggae than I had heard sum total in my life before, and that was saying something.

To this day, the first few notes of "No Woman No Cry" will send me running from a room, pulling at my hair and banging my ears with my fists. It's too bad. Once, I really liked Bob Marley.

And people, my kid is about to do it to me again. At Christmas, he got hooked on a fairly jazzy version of Jingle Bells to which his teachers at school would host afternoon dance parties. And, from there on out, long after the Christmas tree was gone and the presents forgotten, he'd request Jingle Bells. Nine. Thousand. Times. A. Day. "Hinle Bews, Mama? Hinle Bews?" And if I didn't produce a magic music making machine from my purse, armpit, or ear in the next nine seconds, watch out. "WOMAN! I SAID, 'HINLE BEWS! STAT!"

And now he's learned Twinkle Twinkle Little Star. And I can say in all honesty that the first four hundred and twelve times he sang it, it melted my pea-pickin' heart. Except that now, he's abandoned the words and any semblance of pitch, and just toddles around the house singing "Bah bah bah bah" to the relative tune of Twinkle Twinkle, all day long. Or, he might replace the words with whatever object he has in his hands. To the tune of Twinkle Twinkle, I get "Oatmeal Oatmeal Oatmeal Oatmeal" for thirty minutes during breakfast. Darling, right?

Recently, a co-worker of mine reminded me that "Motherhood is not for the feint of heart." I was reminded of her words last night as my son toddled, naked, down the hall, singing "Poopy Poopy Poopy Poopy" to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle, and turned around to show me that indeed, in the middle of his back, was pasted the object of his Twinkle Twinkle word du jour.

Let's keep it real, folks.

This Weight Watcher thing, it's not always easy. I ran into a friend in Wal-Mart yesterday evening who kindly noted my weight loss (though I think she was just being nice - I was wearing baggy clothes and sickly - who could tell?) and we talked about it a bit. She said she'd been considering getting on the bandwagon, and I said "I'm not gonna lie, I kind of hate it every day."

Surprised, she commented that I seem to keep a pretty positive face on it in my columns. And it's true, I do. I guess when I'm writing about a particular recipe that I really liked, I am pretty happy about the situation. But that doesn't mean there aren't times of the day when I'm all, "Damn, Gina! I want some ice cream! I want CHIPS!"

So I decided I need to keep it real. Is Weight Watchers the best "diet" I've ever been on? Yes. And I swear, they do not pay me a penny to say so. I, in fact, pay them. Is it easier for me to stay on track on Weight Watchers than on any other plan I've ever tried? Yes. Am I miserable and hungry and feeling deprived and left out of things all the time? No.

Overall, then, this has been a great experience thus far. But that does not mean it has been easy. Or, even, fun.

I have, of course, had to exercise restraint. I can't order what I want off a menu in a restaurant. I have to say "No" to most offers to go out for dinner, and I haven't cooked with butter in months. I miss cheese and I miss dessert and sometimes I just want to eat a whole bag of Cheetos alone in the dark. Tracking my points is time-consuming and planning our family meals is sometimes exhausting. I get my kid a doughnut for a reward, and I can't have one with him. I can't come home from work and bust out a frozen pizza with my husband. Eating out at a Mexican restaurant (by far my favorite thing in the world) is an exercise in torture.

Two weeks, I gained a pound. GAINED. After doing what I thought was a pretty good job of tracking and dieting all week. I GAINED. And then I lost both of those pounds the next week. So that's three weeks of dieting that turned out to be a wash. Ouch.

That's our #realtalk for the day. Sometimes, it really really stinks.

But! BUT! I keep doing it! I am weighing in for week eight today! I am quite sure I will have lost some of the old lb's and I'm enjoying the fact that my pants don't cut me at my waist. Also, I am fantasizing about wearing this dress and feeling good about it.

the dress by meganstuke

So, on the wagon we stay. Me and ground turkey? We've gotten really friendly. I plan to forge a new love affair with chicken sausage this week. Stay tuned.

You're probably well aware, but I have a food blog over on Lawrence.com called The Flying Fork. And, since I'm on Weight Watchers, my usual Flying Fork fare has been getting a makeover. Gone is the butter, the fryer, the starchy carby goodness.

Well, except this week. This week, we wanted lasagna. So I cut the fat and the carb in more than half. And my picky-eater-can't-gain-a-pound-even-if-he-tries husband? He helped me roll out pasta. And he gave the whole dish a thumbs up.

Try your hand at making your own pasta! It's fun, you can do it with your partner or a friend (or on your own - it's very doable) and you will feel so very proud of yourself. And, you will control your portion and carbs.

The Flying Fork's Lighter Lasagna