Vegan Mac and Cheese

Helen’s Vegan Mac & Cheese

Of all the dinners I remember having as a kid, mac and cheese night was always the best night. Ever. Even if we had to eat spinach and roasted tomatoes with it, I would not be deterred: it was always good, no matter what.

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Spring Clean Your Medicine Cabinet

a.k.a. One Step You Can Take Today To SimplifyYour Skincare Routine

For many years of my life, I practically lived at my dermatologist’s office. Even though the responsible thing to do is to get your skin checked every year for any early signs of skin cancer (especially if it runs in your family, you’re very fair, you’ve had bad burns, etc. but EVERYONE SHOULD DO IT), that was not the schedule I was keeping. I was showing up at my derm’s office every few months. My frequency had much to do with the fact that my problem skin was ruthless and was in turn being treated like a mad scientist lab experiment. I’d be prescribed one stroooong cream after another, told to wait a few weeks and see what happens. Talk about suspense. With each new trial-by-tube, I was warned to expect things to “get worse before they got better.” Show of hands if you’ve heard this foreboding phrase before (you have, you have, you have). Really, things only ever got worse.

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vegan banana bread recipe

Vegan Banana Bread

Let’s talk about those overripe bananas that are sitting on your kitchen counter. Come onnnnn. You know they’re there, sitting there, taunting you, talking smack about the smoothies they could have become. (Okay, there’s still time for that. Pro-tip: cut those bad boys up, toss them in a freezer bag and whenever you’re looking for something to toss in the blender, boom: bananas.)

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Skintroduction With Helen

Skintroduction with Helen

Little known fact: I had really, really bad skin in high school. (Of course, not so little known if you actually knew me in highschool. So, cool.) Cue everyone rolling their eyes and muttering, you and EVERYONE ELSE, girl, but take me seriously for one second. When I say bad I mean capital B-A-D bad. I mean cystic acne on my cheeks and a constant sprinkling of the same on my forehead, nose and chin. Sometimes even my neck and arms. No, I wasn’t on steroids. Yes, I did want to hide from the world.

From ages twelve to nineteen, I had just about zero relief. And I tried everything. Every over-the-counter option available, late night TV ads boasting total clarity in three weeks (I SEE YOU, PRO-ACTIV), prescription creams, potions, pills, etc. Just about the only thing that never crossed my skin’s fragile, senstiveass barrier was Accutane (thanks for your skepticism on that one, mom – seriously).

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