Sugarless Grain Free Chocolate Mint Cupcakes

You'll never guess what the secret ingredient is!

I wrapped up my third 21 Day Sugar Detox last week – with a new found love and hate for parsnips. Love because they are so temptingly versatile with their rich, sweet and creamy texture. Hate because they don’t want to behave like any other thing you can mash up and bake. I’m still figuring them out, but did end up pretty satisfied with one  creation – the Sugarless Grain Free Chocolate Mint Cupcakes. Let me just say they are the richest, most interesting vegetable and I can’t wait to really master their every use.

Now, the trick is when you make these don’t eat them for 24 hours. Baking with coconut flour is weird. There’s no way around it. I don’t get it, but baked goods with coconut flour need to set for about a day to let all the flavors really come together. The first night I made these, I wasn’t a fan. I actually almost threw them out. But, in a moment of craving something delicious the next day, I ate one and was pleasantly surprised. Quite good – they’re not sweet, so unless you’re serious about eliminating sugar from your diet, you might not be impressed. But if you’re on the road to reducing inflammation and balancing your blood sugar, these will taste pretty darn good. I liked the consistency with the parsnips, and the richness with the coconut butter… and the hint of mint almost makes them feel sweet.

So – to the recipe.

1/2 c coconut flour

1/4 c unsweetened cocoa

pinch salt

1 tsp baking powder

1/2 tsp baking soda

4 eggs

1/2 c pureed parsnips (peel, boil until tender, run through the food processor until smooth)

1/2 c coconut butter (you can make your own and save your whole paycheck)

1 T vanilla (the real stuff without corn syrup)

1/2 tsp mint extract

Preheat oven to 350. Sift dry ingredients. In other bowl, beat eggs, extracts and mix in parsnips. Mix wet ingredients gradually into dry. Grease muffin tin with palm oil or butter. Fill tins half full and bake for about 25-30 minutes. Cool and store in loosely covered container.

Remember – wait a day and you’ll be glad – or try it for yourself and experience the taste transformation.

When to eat like a dinosaur

My once iron-clad stomach — hearken back the days of anemia and cement-like-constipation-from-snacking-on-iron-pills – is now welcoming friendly flora and has not digested sugar, 99.9% of all grains and all dairy except butter in … oh about 18 days – is officially sensitive. I was the person who could choke down ibuprofen dry before the hangover hit at butt-thirty in the morning, and never flinched.

But, today is day 18 of my third 21-day Sugar Detox in seven months. I’ve gone down two full sizes and 19 pounds. I gave up caffeine two weeks ago. I practically snack on supplements. And despite my greatly improved health, I still struggle with a monstrous stress load, which seems to be manifesting itself like a ball and chain called Sinus Pressure.

Inspired to do everything needed in the house this Saturday morning, I had slept a whole 10 hours (something I should do every night but only do about once a week). The heap of mess in sarahjaneskitchen would soon disappear into scrubbed counters and the glow of triumph over kitchen scum.

The dishes were crying out for mercy and I was on my second decaf americano. Next was the mountain of cooking projects forgotten in the fridge since last weekend when I thought I could paleo-betty-crocker myself into personal satisfaction. The crock pot full of bone broth, covered in a hard, thin layer of fat. Wow, is that spaghetti squash still good? There’s frozen left over turkey flax-noodle soup that needs to be thawed.

As I dislodged the fat, picked out the bones, squeezed the soggy onions and filtered the beef broth, a familiar feeling started to buzz around me. Not quite hunger… not quite anxiety… low blood sugar. The banana coconut unsweetened chocolate smoothie was starting to wear off.

Stubbornly, as if resistance was not futile, I proceeded to peel carrots and chop cabbage and onions for the broth that had ended up a little bitter.

The Ziploc full of frozen turkey soup was floating in a sink full of hot water. The spaghetti squash shouldn’t taste tangy. Yuck.

Insisting on success, I got the turkey soup in a pan to warm up for the girls.

And then, slowly, as if in concert, my nasal passages started to squeeze themselves shut, my blood sugar started to plummet and the pressure under my cheekbones was building in that dull, stubborn achy, ever-increasing way.

Craaaaaaaaaaaaassssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhh

A glucose tab and a few slices of peppered salami later, I nearly gave up on lunch and my plans to organize my house back to sanity via cooking and cleaning. And the headache was overpowering my ability to think even after my blood sugar bounced back.

Insert Ibuprofen.

Inhale nasal spray.

My wonderful husband M came to the rescue with ground Italian spicy sausage and coarsely ground beef. Lunch was had by all – E was happy that the flax-noodles were broken up and not 6″ long this time, S thought the beef broth was good and not bitter, and Mr. I was glad there was meat not floating in broth.

M and I headed out for more decaf and my head slowly started to decompress. But, in a perfect transition at the same time my head calmed down, my stomach started to feel like a heavy pit. Commence uncomfortable belching for about 4 hours.

This is not the stomach I used to have. I’m leaner, I’m less depressed, and I’m regular. But I can’t stomach ibuprofen any more. Kimchi seemed to help, but the weird, barfy, heavy feeling wouldn’t go away.

So, tonight dear sweet M made the dinner. Baked pork chops cooked salty and dry just like I like them. So I ate three.

Apparently, there’s nothing like salty, dry pork to snap your stomach out of a funk. But, as we were diving into our dinner, Mr. I was literally diving into his dinner – attacking the dead pork like Fantastic Mr. Fox.

Now, Mr. I is all of 14 1/2. He’s a brilliant, witty and sometimes easily overwhelmed kid. But, somehow in my parenting I have not emphasized the use of a knife. Probably because he never had pork chops until 3 months ago and was raised on chicken breasts and tofu before I embraced red meat again after a 20 year hiatus.

So I say, “Mr. I, you need to use a knife. It’s just impolite to eat like that.”

Little did I know sometimes we all need to eat like dinosaurs. Scarfing ibuprofen at inopportune times, eating a pork chop like a cave man with one blunt instrument. He got stuck – refusing to eat or respond. I felt my weird stomach get weirder. He went off to his room to read another Star Wars book. And I felt like a jerk.

The night’s not over, but two pork chops later, my stomach feels the best it’s felt in seven hours. And Mr. I doesn’t seem too terribly crushed.

Thank God tomorrow is Sunday.