Recovering from Being Over-Served

The other night, the Intellect and I spent time at my sister's place with my family for her five year wedding anniversary. Their menu consisted of burgers followed by some red wine. Now you might think that burgers aren't sexy, but if you've been reading this blog, you'll know that 70-80% of the time, my diet is clean. That way, I can eat a good meaty burger (sorry veg heads), without the guilt.

The night turned out to be a messy one - especially after the parents left. Uncountable glasses of vino later, I realized, holy sweet baby Jesus, I've been done wrong...I've been over-served. Waking up the next morning, I was dehydrated and seriously hung-over. So I had to question the fate of the rest of my day and if it was possible to recover from being over-served...

Now, I know what you're thinking...

Melissa, you're a practitioner, you shouldn't be getting over-served! But let me remind you that first and foremost, I'm a human being. Next, this is a random occurance that happens to the best of us. Lastly, the Intellect was the designated driver. Very important folks. Otherwise, if you're hard up for a ride in Toronto, simply dial, #TAXI which will locate you to the nearest and first available cabby to you.

Waking up with last night's face still on, I sputtered out from chapped lips two very magical words...coconut water (Recovery Tip #1). If you don't know about this marvelous drink, here is some info for ya. It is the most natural electrolyte replacement there is on the planet and after a night of wine, consider your body parched. It contains 15x more potassium then bananas and is the closest to blood plasma. It was even used to save lives in the war when they used it in IV's. Oh ya, the shit is out right powerful. So chuck the sugary electrolyte replacements and run to the health food store and buy a tetra pack of Vita Coco, or what I call liquid magic. It's down right yummy.

As I gulped down my drink like I had travelled the Sahara Desert, I realized, Oh mother of pearl, I don't remember leaving P's house. I began rubbing my forehead like a magic eight ball hoping to find answers. When that failed, I hesitantly asked the Intellect...whu happened. Getting filled in on the details, I shuttered at the fact that not only did I slur my words like a classy lady, but I also choked on hot tea when I got home, fell to the ground with my eyes bulging out and almost died. Yes, the Sexy Food Therapist almost died...again.

Walking in shame to my kitchen, I decided I needed food desperately to kick me out of this funk. I craved what every good little hung-over kitten would crave. Eggs (Recovery Tip #2). Now I know, served up with bacon and slathered with ketchup is down right dirty and darn good after a long night, but this was gonna be a PG version folks. So I made myself and the Intellect over-medium eggs dowsed in hot sauce on toast. Forget the bacon, this Latin booty is fine without the extras. The toast and eggs is just fine thank you.

So if you've ever wondered, what in God's name make eggs the token hang-over food, here's your answer. Well our beloved little eggling is FILLED with large amounts of cysteine, an amino acid that breaks down the hangover-causing toxin acetaldehyde in the liver's easily depleted glutathione (a major antioxidant). In other words, eggs are the sexy magic hang over food. Mystery solved.

Making my way to work, I decided to quickly detour to Broadview Espresso for a coffee and a strong one at that. There the coffee angels bestowed onto me the best double bone dry cappucino I could ask for that morning. Clutching onto it, I felt ready to tackle the day.

However that day, should have been recorded as the longest day in history. As the hours crept by, I began to think about what to make for supper. It isn't often that I feel this way, but that day, I didn't want to make dinner. I prayed to all the food God's out there (one of which I believe is Julia Child) that the Intellect could cook. Maybe I'll ask him to make me almond butter on toast, I thought. He can do that. But then, in a moment of despair, it came to me. My Sexy Roasted Lemon Bird was in the fridge...just waiting for me.

I'm always amazed at the practicality of making a roast. For a couple bucks more than you'd pay for a chicken breasts, you get a whole chicken and left overs to last you for the week. Perfect recession food I might add and down right smart.

I knew I had enough to pick off the bone and throw on some pizza and I could do it under half hour. Pizza? Perfect. (Recovery Tip #3)

SEXY QUICK & EASY ZZA

1 large pizza bread premade (Ace bakery makes a great one)

1 cup of naturally raised chicken - shredded or chopped

3-4 tbsp of pesto (or enough to coat the entire bread)

Organic baby spinach to cover bread

Handful sundried tomatoes

3 large organic Portobello mushrooms

1/4 organic sliced red onion

Goat cheese and walnuts for topping

Frank's Red Hot sauce for drizzling

Preheat oven to 375.

In a medium sized pan, saute onions and Portobello mushrooms over medium heat until caramelized and mushrooms softened. Set aside.

Spread pesto, spinach sundried tomatoes on top of pizza. Add mushroom and onion mixture and top with chicken, goat cheese and walnuts.

Put in oven directly on the rack for 15 minutes or until crispy.

I can just hear you now...Melissa, you're a practitioner...pizza??

So let me start out by saying this...

I will never claim to be a saint, but rather a person first - which might be the reason why my clients seem to relate to me. Mind you, you obviously want a practitioner who can walk the talk and who isn't a hypocrite. The key to what I try to do is teach balance. Sometimes you might have one too many glasses of wine or have a slice (or two) of a wheat or dairy-filled birthday cake. However, so long as you're good 70-80% of the times, you can indulge without the guilt.

Granted, this pizza crust is filled with wheat. The problem is that wheat causes phlegm in the system, so it's best to be eaten sparingly. Balance remember? I'm simply not going to feel guilty about this. I made most of it myself and didn't dial the nearest kitchy sing-song pizza number. That in less than half hour, the Intellect and I, mmm'd and ahhh'd at our Sexy Quick & Easy Zza. Yum.

As for the rest of my night...

...I threw on my yoga pants (okay, I had them on at work too)...

...tied back my hair (okay, it was already back)...

...washed off my makeup (there's NO way I'd go to work without make-up after a post drink night!)...

..and jumped on the couch under the covers with the Intellect. There, I played little, helpless sick victim. Yes, I know, maybe it's a little manipulative. But hey, I got a foot rub out of it...(Recovery Tip #4)