Explosive Gas Warning: A Plant-Based Public Service Announcement
Explosive Gas Warning
This is what happens when you decide food needs to support your life… and then get a little too confident with garlic.
Because the shift sounds simple on paper.
Eat differently. Feel better.
But real life doesn’t happen on paper.
It happens on nights when you’ve just gotten back from a road trip, your fridge is nearly empty, your grocery delivery is five hours late, and you start making decisions that feel genius in the moment.
Which is exactly how we ended up here.
Last night was one of those nights.
Five hours.
FIVE. HOURS.
That’s how long we waited for our Whole Foods delivery after I’d just gotten back from a road trip to California—dropping my kid back at college, running on fumes, feeling gross, airport air still stuck to me. The last thing I wanted to do was eat out again, and there was zero chance I was going to a grocery store.
So, as my guy drove me home from the airport, I did what I thought was the responsible thing and placed a grocery order.
I trusted the universe.
The universe absolutely did not have my back.
As irritation started creeping in, I opened my sad, desolate refrigerator — you know the one. The how are we adults fridge.
And there it was:
Some cashew cream I’d made before I left.
A loaf of sourdough.
That was it.
So I did what any tired, hungry, slightly feral woman would do and made it work.
I added chili oil, salt, paprika, fresh basil. It was good… but thick. Like too thick. So I loosened it with a splash of coconut milk.
Then — because I clearly had no off switch — I tossed a whole bulb of garlic in the air fryer with olive oil and roasted it until it smelled like heaven and questionable decisions.
I toasted the sourdough in a cast iron skillet, slathered on the cashew cream, topped it with roasted garlic and basil and—
Yeah.
It was really good.
Like why-isn’t-this-on-a-menu good.
Like I’m-definitely-making-this-again good.
Possibly too good.
Because not long after, my guy and I became dueling bagpipes.
I’m talking next-level gas.
Actual pain.
No winners. No survivors.
Then, because timing is cruel, the groceries finally showed up at 8pm.
And instead of calling it, I cooked again like someone who clearly hadn’t learned her lesson:
Plant-based tortilla soup with homemade tortilla strips
Veggie broth, onions, garlic, black and pinto beans, spices
A warm farro and kale salad with a maple-dijon dressing
And honestly?
All of it was great.
But by then…
The damage was already done…
After some reflection (and suffering), here’s what I think went down:
Cashews — high FODMAP in bigger amounts
Coconut milk — added fuel
Garlic — a whole bulb, which was aggressive behavior
Chili oil — sped everything up
Sourdough — innocent bystander caught in the crossfire
It wasn’t one thing.
It was a perfect storm of plant-based confidence.
Would I eat it again?
Absolutely.
Would I maybe not roast an entire garlic bulb like I’m trying to ward off evil spirits next time?
Also yes and I would occasionally deal with the consequences.
Katie Seelhoff
About No Bull Shiitake Kitchen I didn’t grow up eating kale. I grew up on a farm — with wild-hunted meat, backyard chickens, and two giant vegetable gardens I mostly ignored. I was the kid who hated vegetables, lived on potatoes, and would sit at the dinner table for hours refusing to eat whatever wild game was on my plate. Fast forward a few decades and a health wake-up call later, something wild happened: I stopped fighting food… and started feeling better. Not a little better. Way better. Less inflammation. More energy. Clearer skin. A body that finally felt like it was on my side again. At 40, I honestly feel better than I ever have. Here’s the part no one likes to say out loud: Plant-based has a stigma — and it’s bullshit. People think it means fake meat, sad salads, and giving up everything you love. What I found instead was flavor, creativity, comfort, and food that actually makes you feel good instead of heavy and exhausted. This isn’t vegan dogma. This isn’t diet culture. This is real food, cooked with intention, by a former farm kid who never planned to end up here — and is way happier because she did. No Bull Shiitake Kitchen is where I share: What I actually eat The messy, funny, honest stories behind it And how to make plants taste indulgent and real No fake food. No preachy rules. No pretending. Just plants, cooked with heart, that make you feel really damn good. No bull. All plants.