Spaghetti squash gremolata.

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I think it’s safe to say that anyone reading this blog knows that I am not, and will never be (barring some sort of life-or-death illness) the kind of person who gives up her carbs. I love my sandwiches, and pasta, and dear god, do I love my potatoes. (You’re probably sick of reading about it.) I’m not giving them up for anything. You’d have to pry them from my cold, dead hands. That being said, I’m also not averse to trying low-carb/carb-free substitutes to carbtastic, starchy goodness, because I like having my cholesterol in check, and because I’m open to trying just about any food that isn’t an insect. (Or durian.) A few weeks ago, I tried making a cauliflower pizza crust – and no, I’m not going to tell you that it tasted JUST LIKE PIZZA CRUST OMG 4 REAL because I am not a big fat liar. It tasted…quiche-y? Maybe? It was good, but it was in no way similar to actual pizza crust.

On Friday, I tried my hand this recipe, because my mom, my sister, and apparently everyone on Pinterest, ever, has gone spaghetti squash crazy.

whole squash

“It tastes like and has the texture of spaghetti!!!”, the Internet says. (To her credit, this blogger never claimed spaghetti squash tastes like spaghetti. So thank you, A Family Feast.) “I call shenanigans, Internet,” I replied. (Yes, I talk to inanimate objects. You do, too, so stop raising those eyebrows.)

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(Red) wedding fare.

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Alright. I know it’s June, and June is hardly the time of year for comfort foods here in Jersey, but I (and about seven million other people, I reckon), are in need of some comfort after last night’s long-anticipated (by book readers, anyway) episode of Game of Thrones. Obvious disclaimer: There are spoilers here.

I devoured the entire series in the summer of 2011, shortly after the first season of the show wrapped up, so I knew what was coming in episode 309, aptly (and chillingly) titled “The Rains of Castamere.”

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Since first finishing the series, I’ve become somewhat obsessed, and have read the books at least two times each. I’ve read the passage in which Game of Thrones’ penultimate scene transpires several times. I braced myself. I was smug. I listened to this on repeat. I was anticipating the Internet-wide meltdown that would inevitably take place around 10 P.M. I knew what was coming, and after the obligatory book-chucking that comes with reading that particular chapter, and working my way through the Kubler-Ross Model (and laughing when my dad sent me an email after reading the chapter with the subject line “HE’S KILLING EVERYONE!”), I was prepared.

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