I’m Not Starting a Food Cult, I Swear

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I didn’t throw out all the cereal or have a dramatic pantry cleanse.
I didn’t shame my husband for marinating meat in canola oil.
And yes, the kids still drink a soda a day.

But over the past few months, I’ve been quietly swapping out a few things in our kitchen, and so far, no one’s complaining. In fact, they’re all asking for more air-popped popcorn.

Disclaimer: This isn’t a food blog or a lifestyle transformation.

This is just me trying to eat food that doesn’t make me feel like garbage and maybe is a little closer to its natural origin.  Just better stuff, fewer chemicals, and zero cult vibes.

It All Started With Water

Okay, well, technically, it started with diet soda. I was drinking way too much of it and barely any water. It wasn’t just bad for me; it was stupid expensive. So I made one small challenge to myself: cut down to one a day and start drinking water with berries, cucumber, mint, whatever felt most spa-like in the fridge.

Eventually, I didn’t need the flair. Also, cucumber seeds kept sneaking through my so-called "fine-mesh" strainer. Enough was enough.

Then, a day came when I decided to see how many hours I could go without a soda before I wanted one. (again, gamifying works for me). That hour never came.

One small change. That’s all it took to flip the switch.

Not “Eating Clean,” Just Paying Attention

Next I started focusing on ingredients. I wasn’t on a diet or “going clean.”
God I hate that term. “Clean eating” has turned into this “holier-than-thou” hierarchy that implies anything else is dirty or, worse, shameful.

Like if you’re not grinding your own almond flour or foraging organic moss, you’re failing your body.
No thanks.

I just wanted to see what would happen if I ate food with fewer ingredients and fewer chemicals in it. That’s it. Nothing extreme. I’m not trying to be an almond mom over here.

So, I made changes that felt reasonable and sustainable. Slightly smarter.
That’s all.

This wasn’t part of some grand transformation plan—I’ve just been making quiet, steady shifts, like I talked about in 50 by 50: A Different Kind of Victory.

The Snack That Changed Everything (Kind Of)

I loooove popcorn. My husband (The Balkan Storm) and I used to stock up on microwave bags like bread and milk during a Kentucky snowstorm (if you know, you know).

One day, I started wondering if there was a less…lined-in-chemicals version. I remembered how excited I used to get as a kid when my mom busted out the air popper. I’d pour in the kernels and watch them spin around the little tube until they exploded... It was magic.

Yes, I was very easily entertained as a child.

So, in a fit of nostalgia and curiosity, I bought an air popper. This one stirs itself, looks like a spaceship, and somehow makes popcorn taste better than the bagged stuff. Here’s the one I use. (Affiliate link, zero pressure.)

And I watch the process intensely because, as it turns out, I am still very easily entertained.

The Balkan Storm, who good-naturedly mocked my popcurn “extra-ness,” now specifically requests it by name. I pop it in coconut oil, drown it in real butter, and finish with a pinch of flaky sea salt—the kind that makes you feel like you actually know what you’re doing.

The house smells amazing, the vibe is peak cozy, and honestly? It’s just really good popcorn.

Butter Over BS: The French (and My Gut) Know Best

My man still thought vegetable oil was “heart-healthy.” To be fair, most of us did, thanks to 1990s marketing. But he was up for the experiment, so I started replacing things as we ran out—no waste or guilt.

Now, we’ve got avocado oil, beef tallow, and coconut oil in our rotation. I’m even considering making homemade mayo.
Maybe.

We also don’t shy away from real butter, cholesterol be damned. My husband trained in classical French cooking, and if there’s one thing I appreciate most from that kitchen style, it’s that fat isn’t the enemy. Flavor matters.

The French don’t demonize food. They slow down. They eat real meals. They don’t live on protein bars and panic. I’m not trying to become Parisian, but I am trying to eat like a grown-ass adult who respects her food and her gut.

If that’s clean eating, cool. But I just think of it as eating like a person again.  

Balance, Not a Breakdown

 There is Cinnamon Toast Crunch in our pantry. There are sodas in the fridge.
And guess what? I still eat some crap too. I love Peeps. Easter’s coming. There will be carnage.

Because the second I turn this into a lifestyle regime, I lose all credibility.

This isn’t about chasing perfection. It’s about feeling better without being miserable. I’m not here to preach health, but if you’re curious about low-effort swaps that don’t taste like misery? I’m your girl.

It took me decades to realize this doesn’t have to be all or nothing.
Real food and real fun can coexist.
It’s called balance. And shockingly, it works.

I’m not churning my own butter. But maybe I’ll ditch bottled salad dressings or make my own sauces when I have the time (read: rare).
Or maybe I just keep doing what I’ve been doing, one discreet swap at a time.
Start small. See how it feels.

Accidental Environmentalist

I didn’t start this for the planet. I just wanted to stop feeling like crap. But hey, less processed packaging, fewer industrial seed oils, and more whole food apparently also help the Earth.

I’m not saving the world, but I’ve downgraded my environmental sins from felonies to misdemeanors. (ba dum tish)

This isn’t a sermon or a detox plan. It’s just a better way to eat.

What’s one low-effort kitchen swap that didn’t trigger a mutiny in your house? Drop it in the comments; I’m always looking for upgrades that don’t taste like regret.