In real life Goldilocks was never a fan of porridge. In fact, she thought it was disgusting. “Who would eat such a gloopy, tasteless mess?” she was known to exclaim. So when she found out that a story had been written about her involving the theft of porridge from poor, hapless creatures, she couldn’t believe it. First she wrinkled her nose, and then she burst out laughing.

“Nuh uh,” she said. “Let me tell you the real story. It goes like this.”

Once upon a time there was an adorable—like, really really cute—girl named Goldilocks. It’s true that she did have lovely flaxen hair, that part is totally true. She was also possessed of a most adventurous and winsome spirit. Goldilocks, as she was known, fearlessly explored forests and villages in her free time, and was a common sight on the roads of her township, traipsing along some unbeaten path.

One day, Goldilocks went into a deep, scary section of forest that was completely dark and unexplored by any in her village, including by the big strong men who so often bragged about their exploits down at the local pub. She got rather hungry after walking for a couple hours, and so was very glad when she came upon a cozy hut with smoke wafting out the chimney, carrying with it the delicious scent of food. Peering through the windows, she saw no one, and entered through the open front door.

“Hello?” she called out. “Anybody home?” Hearing nothing, she removed her muddy shoes and began to explore. In the kitchen, she came upon a disaster in the making – three cast iron pans filled with meat and vegetables sizzling on the stove, and no cooks to be found.

“That can’t be safe!” said Goldilocks, leaping to the range. She wasn’t exactly sure what she was cooking, but she flipped the meat when it seemed done, and cooked the onions to a nice brown char. When everything was ready, she laid it all out on small, medium, and large buns on different-sized plates, and stood looking at the food in front of her.

“Hmm. This looks good. And I am hungry. And nobody’s here, and I did help cook everything. I don’t suppose anybody would mind if I just took a bite of this big patty here.” And so she did, lifting up the large burger and taking a sizable nibble.

She scrunched up her nose. “A little underdone. You know what, I’ll just try this medium burger to see if it’s any better.” She lifted up the medium burger and took an even bigger bite. “Not bad. But you know what, this little guy here seems more my speed – so cute and tiny, no one will notice if I just polish it off.” And so she did, smacking her lips and licking her fingers all the while. “Mmm. Delicious. Just right.”

At that moment, Momma Bear, Poppa Bear, and Baby Bear trundled into the room, back from their forage in the berry bushes. “Hey!” shouted Momma Bear. “Who are you?”

“Why hello there! My name is Goldilocks, how’d ya do?” Taken aback, the bears retreated to the corner of the kitchen, until Baby Bear, noticing the food on the table, cried out: “Where’d my burger go?”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” said Goldilocks. “Was that your burger? It was delicious, but no worries, I’ll just whip you up another one. They’re so small they’re easy to make.” Mollified, the bears sat down around the table and, in no time, became friends with the sociable young Goldilocks, who came to be a regular visitor at the bears’ home on her many journeys into the forest.

So you see, there’s really nothing in this story having to do with breaking chairs and silly beds, and least of all, yucky revolting porridge. Take it from Goldilocks, who says to always go to the original source and never trust retellings (especially for notoriously shifty fairy tales).

This recipe is featured in Phoenix Helix’s Paleo AIP Recipe Roundtable.

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