This summer was so jam packed with good times, but with that came a lot of beer, a lot of cheeseburgers, and a lot sugar-laced treats. By the time September rolled around I was feeling slow and chunky. A gut flush was necessary.

I went with the Clean Program, which is now commercialized and expensive, but the general principles make sense. I didn't do all of the supplements and mixes, I just stuck to the Elimination Diet for 25 1/2 days. A gluten-free, dairy-free, soy-free, caffeine-free, alcohol-free diet. No oranges, grapefruit, strawberries, or bananas. No corn or nightshade vegetables. No white rice, wheat, or oats. No red meat or shellfish. No alcohol. No caffeine. No sugar. No, no, no for 25 1/2 days. 

It was definitely a challenge, especially being someone so excited and positively emotional about food <3 But I do have to say, the affects are a pretty sweet reward. In just a week I felt lighter, more agile. After three weeks I could definitely see my body transforming; nothing major, but everything felt, and feels, more toned and fresh. 

The cleanse also got me back in the kitchen more. It forced me to create new dishes and cook with unique ingredients. It also helped me improve on my smoothie game. (Which is still really not good! I just can't seem to get the proportions and consistency right.) My biggest recipe success to come out of this thing is Coconut Milk Lentils topped with black beans, sauteed greens and pomegranate seeds.


The lentils had the texture of mashed potatoes, but with a nutty, curry twist. The greens and beans added fiber and more flavor, and the pomegranate seeds on top added just enough sweetness and a tiny crunch.

I also want give a shout out to the snacks that got me through this: dried mango and Trader Joe's Salt & Pepper Pistachios. The mango for sweet and chewy cravings. The pistachios for salty crunch. And I couldn't have done this without seltzer water for always having my back when adult beverage cravings kicked in. 

I didn't photo document everything I ate, but here's a good smattering of smoothies and lunches. 

And here is a journal of everything I consumed for 25 1/2 days. 

I love food and restaurants too much to stick to this sort of diet full time, but I absolutely want to stick with a variation of the cleanse at least 75% of the time. It'll not only keep me feeling light and active through the dreaded rainy months, but it will also make fun meals out (and in) that much more enjoyable. I think it was Socrates who once said, "If thou treats oneself on the reg, thou shall become a fat, ungrateful man." 

AuthorMolly Streuli

The last stop on my Euro Adventure in April was Zurich, Switzerland. Not surprisingly, Switzerland reminded me a lot of Germany; beautiful, clean, a bit serious, and very, very well-designed. Although I didn’t eat anything that really rocked my world, there were so many other things that made it an unforgettable destination.

I was particularly amused by all of the amazing typography. Even things as simple as vehicle graphics were so well done. Nothing gaudy or over the top, just clean, minimalistic type treatments. A few of my favs…


Simply walking around the streets of Zurich was such a great experience. The city itself wraps around Lake Zurich, a crisp, cool, blue body of water with snow-topped mountains in the distance and sailboats dotting the coast. Picture perfect.

Right off the west side of the lake is Sukkulenten-Sammlung Zurich, a huge succulent and cacti museum. I remember reading somewhere that it’s Europe’s largest succulent collection. I have to admit, when I think of Switzerland, cacti aren’t the first things to come to mind. But damn...

All of the colors and textures were, without a doubt, Instagram-worthy.

Before I arrived in Switzerland I read up on Rick Steves’ recommendations. And one of those recommendations was Appenzell, a small village in northeastern Switzerland. According to Rick, in Appenzell, you can virtually hear the cows moaning, “milk me.” Although I could count the number of cows I saw on one hand, the views overlooking the village were, dare I say, breathtaking.

Right outside Appenzell we did a short (but very steep!) hike up to Berggasthaus Seealpsee, a little restaurant and lodge nestled in the snowy Alps. The view at the top was mimicked by the lager bottle label in my hand. 

As we headed back to Zurich late in the day we soon discovered nothing was open, not even convenience stores and gas stations. Luckily for my grumbling belly, we came across a vending machine full of raw, cured, and smoked meats. I got a spicy, snappy meat stick and was left wondering why the meat vending business hasn’t made its way to the US.

On my last day in Zurich I walked along the river to the hipster-esque District 5, home to Frau Gerolds Garten. The garden is a large outdoor space made up of old shipping containers, sculptures, plants, and picnic tables. You order food and beer out of a refurbished container, pick up your order at a tented area down the line, then find a place to sit among the various tables, chairs, benches, and decks. I ordered the sausage that was on special and a Carlsberg pilsner.

But what really made the lunch was the atmosphere. Frau Gerolds Garten oozes with fun, color, happiness, and good vibez.

As if my final day in Zurich could get any better, April 16 marked Sechseläuten, Zurich’s  city-wide Spring festival. If I had to compare it to an American event, it would be Groundhogs Day; however, Sechseläuten is much more celebrated and much more exciting. In essence, a huge plastic snowman, The Böögg, is set on top of a mound of dry hay that has been stuffed full of fireworks and explosives. The mound is lit on fire and different gilds, dressed in their ancient trades and craftsmen clothing, ride around the ticking time bomb until the snowman’s head blows into bit. The length of time leading up to the explosion determines the length of time until Spring. Like I said, MUCH more exciting than a groundhog and its shadow.

Like most holidays around the world, Sechseläuten is really just a good excuse to party. And party we did. Every street near the city center was shoulder to shoulder. There was music, food, and beer. Lot and lots of beer.

Minus the pre-fourteen-hour-flight hangover, I’d say it was a pretty epic way to end my European Adventure. Until next time! 

AuthorMolly Streuli

If Barcelona isn’t on your must-see list, I think you should add it. It is without a doubt one of the coolest cities I’ve been to. The people, the food, the architecture, the weather. Everything seems to come together in perfect synchronicity to create this fun, energizing, and beautiful city.

The tone of my visit to Barcelona was set at the first bar I stepped foot in. It was called El Drapaire De La Cervesa Artesana in the El Raval quarter of the Ciutat Vella district, not far off Las Ramblas. I don’t speak Spanish or Catalan, but I’m no stranger to the word “cervesa.” The bartender was friendly and happy to chat. That’s something that’s always annoyed me about a lot of Portland bars – the lack of bartenders giving a shit, or even pretending to give a shit. But this guy was great! He pointed out the Lagunitas banner hanging on the wall and asked if I’d ever had it. Living on the West Coast I have most definitely had my fair share of Lagunitas IPAs. Coincidently, one of the two Lagunitas reps living in Spain was coming by the bar that night to check on reorders. We chatted for a while about craft beer using lots of hand gestures and strings of simple words to describe more complicated things we were trying to explain. His English was minimal and my Catalan is, well, non-existent.

The rep showed me a few other bars in the area, like Bar 33/45, another craft beer-focused bar. After four or five beers and a flight earlier in the day, I was tempted to call it a night. Fortunately, I made plans a couple days beforehand to meet up with Robin, a Barcelona local, that night.

Robin is a friend of a guy named John. I met John at a photo shoot for work the day before I flew out of Portland. John used to live in Barcelona and he connected me with Robin. And Robin turned out to be a pretty kick ass tour guide. Funny how things work.  

I met Robin at Bar Calders, home of the cheapest gin and tonics in the city (€3.50). It was in the Sant Antoni neighborhood, not far from El Raval where the night began.

We started our tapas crawl with two traditional Spanish tapas. Pan con tomate and Ensaladilla Rusa. Pan con tomate is a crusty bread with a thin tomato sauce spread on top, or the tomato is rubbed directly onto the bread. Robin explained how the origin of this dish came from Catalan cooks trying to avoid food waste - they had a stale piece of bread and an overripe tomato. By combining the two and adding some olive oil and salt, otherwise trash-destined ingredients were transformed into a traditional, and quite delicious, dish.

Ensaladilla Rusa was our second Spanish staple. Nearly every tapas joint in Barcelona has their version of the dish. Ensaladilla Rusa is a mayonnaise-based dip that usually contains potatoes, tuna, peas, and carrots. Although I was hesitant and expecting a mouthful of mayo, I was pleasantly surprised by the lightness of the dish. The solid ingredients were super fresh and crisp while the mayo was actually used pretty minimally to bind everything together.

After another gin and tonic, we left Bar Calders and continued on our tapas crawl.

Stop #2: Vermut. Vermut is in the Sants neighborhood of Barcelona, a much less touristy area. Walking into Vermut it was obvious that the patrons were regulars. That made me excited (and relieved I was with a local). We ordered beers, fried little croquets with all sorts of meaty fillings, and this heirloom tomato salad that’s hard to put into words. I’ve never had a salad that was so satisfying – it was both refreshing and indulgent. 

There was a thin layer of fresh greens at the bottom, topped with the star of the show: five or six thick-cut slices of heirloom tomatoes in an array of colors and flavors. Those were topped with quartered avocados, grated parmesan, and a thick, sticky, sweet balsamic dressing.

I didn’t think it was possible to get this infatuated with a salad. I guess you learn something new every day.

Robin and I ended the night with a leisurely stroll back toward the center of the city and called it a night. Day 1 in Barcelona: Boomshakalaka.

The Airbnb I stayed in was wicked cool. It was right off Las Ramblas and up three floors through an inconspicuous door on a windy alleyway street. The apartment was bright and airy and full of fun art pieces and quirky knick knacks. Before it was converted into an apartment it must have been a creative office space or something more compartmentalized. In the main living area, there were four different tile styles.

In fact, all over Barcelona, I found myself looking down and noticing a high level of detail on the ground. Even the average street sidewalks adorned neat patterns.

One of my favorite things I did in Barcelona is something that I usually wouldn’t do in general: A guided bike tour. To my defense, this wasn’t one of those 30+ people tours with a guide wearing a headset and branded polo giving the tour from a script. It was an “Airbnb Experience.” It was a group of three (me + a couple from New York) and Jordan, the tour guide. He was originally from San Fran, moved to Barcelona 13 years ago and never looked back. He was a hipster if you've ever seen one. He was also super knowledgeable, fun to chat with, and allowed us to see most the city in a single afternoon. We rode through a bunch of gardens, including Parc De La Ciutella, one of the main public parks in Barcelona.

And also got to see some of the more recognizable landmarks in the city. Like La Sagrada Familia, which has been under construction since 1882 and won't be complete for at least another 9 years!

And Casa Milà, one of the many famous Gaudi structures in Barcelona.

Our last stop on the tour was to Elsa y Fred, one of tour-guide-Jordan’s favorite spots. Jordan ordered us a bottle of local-made sangria and 8-10 different tapas. I was too hungry and excited to remember to take photos of the first few plates, but I did manage to get a couple terrible snaps of our final two dishes: a tuna tartar with a puffed black rice cracker and a beef tartar taco.

The “Airbnb Experience” was certainly that. It didn’t feel corny or forced; it was just a great opportunity to connect a knowledgable local with tourists eager to explore. Check it out if you're ever in Barcelona.

My last night in Barcelona perfectly summarized my time in the city. It was relaxing, fun, and food-filled. After leaving La Boqueria, a huge, open-air market off Las Ramblas where I got a jar of saffron and this couscous/paella/enchilada-like dish,

I strolled down to the beach for sunset. I was lucky enough to catch two street bands. One super legit group:

And another not-so-legit group who harassed everyone for money after their rendition of "La Bamba."

I enjoyed them both, especially because I was drinking a beer sea-side on a 70-degree evening. As the night went on the sun began to set and golden hour arrived. These photos immediately take me back to the day and time - slightly buzzed, feeling the sun warming (and probably burning) my skin, both happy to be in Barcelona and sad to be leaving the following day.

For my final Barcelonian meal I headed to Belmonte in the Gothic Quarter, a Robin-recommendation. When I arrived I sat at the bar. Merce the owner, hostess, bartender, and only waitress, greeted me. I told her Robin sent me and she smiled.

I ordered the house red and a few small plates: Pan con tomate (again!), truita, and xato. I was expecting the truita to be a tortilla filled with different ingredients, sorta like a quesadilla, but instead, it was an eggy omelet. I ordered mine with chorizo and croutons. Merce told me that was Robin’s favorite so I figured I couldn’t go wrong. I’m still not sure how I feel about croutons in an omelet. I guess it makes sense as an alternative to toast on the side, but the texture kind of threw me for a loop.

The real star of the meal was the xato. It was a combination of crunchy, leafy greens and fresh, cold seafood. I couldn’t even tell you what all of the sea creatures were, but they were awesome. It all came together with a lemony, anchovy-y dressing and briny olives.

It’s apparent the Spanish know their shit when it comes to salads. They also seem to know their shit when it comes to living a good life. Everyone I encountered in Barcelona appeared happy, balanced and eager to engage. They seem to live with a work hard (but not too hard), play hard attitude that radiates throughout the city. It was a beautiful place and I can’t wait to go back.

AuthorMolly Streuli

I've been stumbling across a "bunch" of banana themed art and design pieces lately and they're very "a-peeling."

Sources can be found on my Designspiration page.

AuthorMolly Streuli

I flew out of Reykevik early Friday morning and headed east, bound for Zurich, Switzerland. When I landed my buddy, Morgan, who lives in Zurich, picked me up and we set sails for Italy. Our final Italian destination being Genoa. Seeing as Genoa is a 5+ hour drive from Zurich, and taking Easter weekend traffic into account, we planned to stay in Milan that night before concurring the final stretch to Genoa the following day.

Although Milan had never been on my must-see list, I’m happy I got the opportunity to check it out, even for a short time. It turns out our best Italian meal was in Milan.

I’m unfortunately a terrible food blogger and don’t remember the name of the restaurant. BUT, I do remember that it was on an adorable cobblestone street and on that cobblestone street was a full-on fortuneteller reading minds, palms and crystal balls over a folding card table.  

Anywho, the food was bomb. Morgan ordered the lobster linguini and I ordered the black spaghetti with swordfish and seasonal vegetables. Both were simple dishes. There was no crazy presentation (unlike Icelandic cocktails...) or unusual ingredients. But that’s exactly what made them so good. Simple/local/seasonal ingredients brought together with tried and true techniques. The texture of the pasta is something I still think about on the daily.

After dinner at [insert restaurant name here if I ever figure it out] we meandered the streets to find some post-din drinks. Passing by a bar we spotted this gem:

I don’t know if it’s the phrase, Mikey’s mouth situation, or the fact that the whole thing is held up with a mess of masking tape, but I absolutely love it. So fun to think about what in the world was going through the mind of the artist as he created this. If I could have gotten it out of the bar and into my suitcase I would be staring at this beauty on my bedroom wall right now, masking tape and all.

The rest of the night in Milan included gin and tonics, negronis, barware thievery and more negronis. So, moving on.

The next morning we left Milan and drove south through the Piedmont region. This is where Nebbiolo grapes are grown and Barolo wines are produced. It was picture perfect.

We stopped in the little village that was appropriately named, Barolo, to grab lunch and, of course, drink Barolo wine. When in Barolo…

Talk about quaint. There were barefoot kids playing soccer on the brick roads, cafés and tasting rooms on every corner, and hillside vineyards to the north, south, east, and west.

We decided on La Cantinetta for lunch, primarily because there was outdoor seating and wasn’t a wait. There was a cute little white dog and a David Cross look-a-like to keep us company. I went with the risotto of the day, which happened to be asparagus, and Morgan ordered the wild boar. Again, both were delicious. Simple, rustic food. Nothing more, nothing less.

Although I love the ever-changing, bold food scene in Portland, there seems to be something pretty special about Italian cuisine. At a place like La Cantinetta, you know that what is put in front of you is the same dish that was put in front of a customer 20, 30 years ago. It was done so well from day one that there is no need, want, or desire to make changes. What is it they say? If it ain’t broke, don’t fix it.

After lunch we continued on our way to Genoa. Genoa isn’t exactly a tourist destination or on too many peoples’ must-see list. And that was totally me until I read this article by Travel & Leisure. The author, Bruce Schoenfeld, makes Genoa sound gritty, beautiful, bashful, and vibrant, all at the same time. But what really excited me about Genoa was the food, particularly the seafood.

Once again, because I’m a terrible food blogger, I don’t have a single photo of a seafood dish I ate in Genoa. WTF. However, pesto was invented in Genoa and I DO have a photo of that.

This was at a place called Il Genovese, a restaurant recommended in the article. This is gnocchi with the brightest green pesto you’ve ever seen. We were trying to figure out why it was so good and so bright and our conclusion is cheese. Obviously cheese makes everything taste better, but I think it also makes the pesto brighter. (Like with printing, when you print a color over white ink it’s much brighter than if you were to print it over colored ink.) I need to do some pesto experimenting at home to see if our theory holds up.

Il Genovese was the cutest. A few tables downstairs and a few tables up the spiral staircase. The waiters were young and helpful and the clientele was so diverse: Families out to celebrate; friends sharing a bottle of wine and fried anchovies; a couple having dinner with their dog resting at their feet. 

We ended our first night in Genoa with, you guessed it, MORE NEGRONIS.

Our final Italian adventure was the Cinque Terre. Cinque Terre is five small villages along the Ligurian Sea coastline. It’s one of those places you see on postcards and have a hard time believing exist. The pastel buildings, clear blue water and mountainous terrain will make your jaw fall to floor.

The villages restrict cars so to visit you must hike or take a ferry. We started in Monterosso, the westernmost village, and hiked/walked to Vernazza. It was only about 2 miles, but the fact that we were herded through like cattle made it feel a bit longer. (TIP: Don’t hike the Cinque Terre on Easter weekend!) Other than the absurd number of people we were forced to hike alongside, it was really a cool experience. The views alone made up for the crying children, impatient adults and sluggish seniors.

After the hike and another fun night in Genoa, we left Italy with bellies full of wine, seafood, and a much higher expectation of Italian restaurants in the U.S. 

Next up: Tapas so tasty in my new favorite city, Barcelona. 

AuthorMolly Streuli