Browsing Tag

nutrition

Thoughts

Cooking: A tale of turmoil and thanklessness

June 1, 2018

When I signed on for marriage, and then about a year later for motherhood, I didn’t really anticipate the hostile situation I would encounter in the kitchen. I mean, you see women on television cooking and putting dishes on the dinner table. They’re smiling. You grow up with your own mother supplying sustenance in some fashion. She survived. And perhaps because of these positive images, I couldn’t have predicted the mob rebellion and mental anguish that awaited me in that cold, stainless steel dungeon.

In the beginning.
When Hank and I first got married, I thought of supper like an 80-year-old cafeteria worker would think of supper. I made foods to fill all of the compartments on our trays; A meat, a potato, a veggie, a bread and a dessert. Sounds like a lot of work, right? Luckily, this was also a time in my life when I fully embraced convenience foods. I snatched up 10 for $10 just-add-water muffin mixes and sauced vegetables steamer packs like our livelihood depended on it.

There was no planning or hectic schedules to factor in. I just pulled various pouches of processed shit from the pantry, whipped ‘em up and went about our night, watching whatever the F we wanted to on television and talking about whatever the F we wanted to at the table.

My day job was interesting juxtaposition with my domestic demeanor. I worked for a gourmet food and wine magazine from 9 to 5, where I would stand in meat coolers with classically trained chefs as they ran their hands over aged fillets and explained the cheese-making process. Then I came home, threw together my Pillsbury endorsed family meal and all was well. It was a naive time. A blissful time. A time of empty carbs and subtle weight gain. We were just a couple of kids fighting over how soupy the mac and cheese should be and it was glorious.

Then we had a kid.

Then another.

Then one more.

The family table.
The moment I started bringing other human beings into the world, an unintentional shift took place within my culinary conscious. I made baby food … from scratch. Baby food that looked like the morning after my worst decisions. I set aside steamed sweet potatoes and ripened pears as if they were the Hope Diamond so I could puree perfect jars of goo for my little princesses. I felt so maternal and connected to the earth.

I’d keep spooning it in and they’d keep spitting it out, like sludge from a sewer. Back and forth we’d go for 30 minutes. In the end, I’d have the stuff in my hair and under my fingernails and they looked like they got in a fight with a barrel of bad apples. I should have known then. I mean, my future self could have told my new mother self, but she wouldn’t have listened. I should have seen that they would never appreciate anything I put in their stomachs ever for their whole childhood until the end of time.

The thing about feeding kids is, their dining hopes and desires can be drilled down to five categories: goldfish, highly processed meats such as bologna or hot dogs, mushy foods like applesauce, yogurt and mac and cheese, anything that comes with a toy and cake. I have spent hours at the table fighting over how many bites they have to take and timeouts and bargaining and threatening and tricking and, in the end, unless you have something shaped like a dinosaur or princess on their plate, it just doesn’t matter. Their willpower is too strong.

They will starve.

They will scream.

They will throw shit.

I have friends who gave birth to unicorns. Their children “love salmon” and “try one new vegetable a week,” but my kids didn’t come out with magical cones on their foreheads and they think asparagus is the Devil’s work. There’s no convincing them otherwise.

The infuriating part is the hustle. You spend all day at work, bust ass to get home, start dinner right away, slap it on the table (sweat on your brow) before anyone has the chance to realize they’re hungry and immediately you’re met with the uprising. “I hate this!” “Why’d you put pepper on this?” “That touched something else in the pan.” “This isn’t as good as last time.”

My favorite is the total disdain they have for new things.

“I hate these.”
“Sandwiches?”
“Yes, I hate these sandwiches.”
“Have you ever had them before?”
“No.”
“So how do you know you don’t like them?”
“Because of how they look.”
“How do they look?”
“Like gross sandwiches.”

And on my life goes, with some version of this rewarding dialogue night after night after night. I keep cooking and they keep praying the oven breaks.

Paralyzed by pesticides.
Somewhere in my early 30s, I became obsessed with food documentaries. Food Inc., Cowspiracy, Sugar Coated, Supersize Me, Forks Over Knives, Fed Up, What the Health, you name it, I’ve lost sleep over it. I love spending roughly 120 minutes feeling simultaneously enlightened and terrified, which stresses me out, which then makes me want to turn around and consume all of the offensive, disgusting food items featured in the film I just watched.

Ask me on any given day and I’ll be eliminating something from our diets. I’m an expert Whole30’er. I took you all on a 14-day vegan adventure earlier this year. I’ve called it quits with sugar, my abusive-yet-beautiful boyfriend, more times than I can count. I see something, read something or hear a podcast and I go all in. I clean out my cabinets and pledge my allegiance to a different “ism” on a regular rotation.

The kids notice, sure. They add their commentary to veggie-heavy or new meals to the point where I’ve gotten in the habit of whipping up alternatives for them to place in their judgmental pieholes. But the joke is on me because, remember, they don’t eat anything I make anyway.

I just expect some switch to flip at some point and everyone gets on board with being the family who implements true change and comes out on the other side with amazing results. I secretly yearn to be the woman who cures her foot fungus and starts running ultra marathons by eating only kale and giant mushrooms from the jungle. But I’m more the mom who eats an egg sandwich and fried potatoes before spin class and belches up garlic during sprints.

It’s not for a lack of trying. You guys, I made almond flour scones from scratch the other week. Scones. I expected my patrons to pass out from both the effort and the flavor. The reception was lukewarm at best. So then I start to wonder what the point of putting much thought into any of this really is.

I’ll end it here, with a glimpse into my internal dialogue while meal planning for the week …

I know what I’ll do. I’ll go get my cookbooks out and plan a week of clean meals. If it’s good enough for Gwenyth, it’s good enough for my family, right? These pictures are all so pretty. I bet these people never gets colds.

Hmm, these look really hard. And I’m not really sure where I’d buy yaca. Maybe I’ll do Pinterest instead, but I’m only going to pin from the Vegan board. And the Whole30 board. And maybe one thing from the Yum board.

OK, I’m going to try at least one new recipe this week. It’s good to push these people. The girls can just pick out the parts they don’t like. I have to stop catering to everyone’s different tastes. I’m enabling. Oh gosh, that’s why they throw fits. Enabling and too much tablet time.

Man, this week is really busy. I definitely can’t make anything new on Thursday, that’s for sure. And it’s the girls’ last day of school on Wednesday, and they’ll want one of their favorites.

Ah, screw it … we’ll go with pancakes, tacos and burgers again.

Wellness

A whole lotta Whole30 fun

February 3, 2017

That’s a wrap on Whole30 round No. 4!

It always feels bittersweet at the end of these little resets. Like, I’m so relieved I don’t have to carry emergency food in my purse and cook ALL OF THE THINGS, but also so concerned about what happens when I drop the reins and give myself some food freedom again. You have the best of intentions to ease in, go 90/10, but then one evening you wake up delirious face down in a plate of Texas Roadhouse cheese fries with ranch up to your elbows. It gets away from ya that fast.

Every time I do a Whole30, I get the same two comments/questions: 1) I don’t think I could do that, and 2) So, then what?

Let’s address these.

I don’t think I could do that.
Yes you could. You really could. People get their panties in a pinch over hearing the word “no” so many times consecutively, but simply put, the Whole30 guidelines specify you must eat real food for 30 days. This means no sugar, no alcohol, no grains, no legumes, no dairy, no carrageenan, sulfites or MSG, no corn and no processed crap. It means you’re going to be gettin down on a lot of eggs, meat, nuts, seeds, healthy fats, fruits and veggies. This is not a tragedy, folks. It’s really just doing what you should always do, which should be easy but isn’t at all because, it turns out, “food” in our country is in kind of a sad state.

The secret, I’ve found, is in the cooking. And let’s just say it, it is so much freaking cooking. If you can’t use a food processor or chop produce like a boss, you will not survive. If you don’t like meal planning, you will not survive. If you don’t like doing dishes, you will survive (it just blows). It’s kind of like having a newborn; You live on a 2-hour cycle. You prep the breakfast, eat the breakfast, clean up the breakfast, prep the lunch, eat the lunch, clean up the lunch, prep the dinner, eat the dinner, clean up the dinner. Go to bed, start over. The first time we did a Whole30, I took some epic missteps in regard to meal choices. Ones that haunt me to this day. I remember one night I just threw a pan with a pile of shit on it in the middle of the table, cried and told Hank not to eat it because I was pretty sure it was poison. It was a little Pinterest lie called “pizza with cauliflower crust” if memory serves.

But now, four rounds in, I’ve developed quite a repertoire. I can do things with a bag of almond meal, carton of eggs and pound of bananas that would make you– I don’t know where I was going with that … Anyway, this time, I checked the official Whole30 Cookbook out of the library. It was legit. Its pages were packed with game changers like Crispy Spicy Turkey over Cauli Rice and the like. We kicked things off on January 3 with the Curry Turkey Meatballs with Roasted Potatoes, Cauliflower and Kale, and we ended on February 1 with the same dinner. When you find something that works, hold onto it and serve it up as many times as you can for sanity’s sake.

The funny thing is, the food is really good. After your taste buds are revived from the 11-month waterboarding they’ve been served by sodium- and sugar-drenched deliciousness, a meager strawberry suddenly dances on your reinvigorated tongue. Roasted vegetables are inviting. Cashews are silky. It’s amazing what real food can do when you take all the crap away and just let it do it’s natural thang.

For whatever reason, I didn’t detox quite as hard this time around. In the past, it felt like I had the flu. I’d be exhausted, pale, sweaty and down with a throbbing headache for much of the first week. Am I pregnant? I thought. Maybe mono? Oh, no, that’s just me coming off sugar. Although, in my body’s defense, I’m pretty sure my consumption rivals that of the rats they use to test whether candy or heroine is more addictive. It’s up there. So my withdrawals might be magnified a bit. This time, however, I think my body was begging for the cleanse so hard it decided not to put up much a fight.

The benefits are the same, but a little different, every time we do this. This time, it was the sleep. I was like a bear in the Smokies. It was so good, I almost always got 8 hours. I’d get horizontal and my body just automatically signed off for the night. It was a beautiful thing. I felt clear-headed and alert and loved the sustained energy.

Another bonus, Hank and I discovered the best fruit flavor combination on earth. Stuff a red grape into the cavity of a red raspberry and just put my thank you card in the mail. I’ve often wondered if it’s really that good, or just that good because fruit is the equivalent of Ben & Jerry’s when you aren’t having sugar, but I think it’s really truly that good.

But that’s not to say it was all roses and smooth BMs. Here are three of my favorite journal entries from the journey …

Day 13 (Clearly in the anger phase)
I want to scream. I am doing all of this planning and cooking and shit and I asked my husband to do one thing – set out chicken breasts to thaw – and I get home, get all the shit chopped up and guess what? Frozen freaking chicken boobs. One thing! One thing!

(Sorry Hank.)

Day 18
I vomited in the sink. My body put up a stop sign to sweet potato, egg and avocado. There can be no more.

Day 19
We went to Matt’s to watch the playoff games. I thought I was prepared. I made Nom Nom Paleo wings and banana-coconut “cookies” and whipped coconut cream with strawberries. But it was no match for the smell of queso and enchiladas. Damn him! Damn him. We held strong though. This is a bitch.

So, then what?
Well, I’ll be the last person to tell you I have harnessed the true power of Whole30. I followed the blog Kale and Cigarettes throughout our journey, as the writer and his wife were going through their first round. He wrote a lot about the anger that comes with not necessarily knowing the end game. As in, what if I bought all these weird ingredients and cooked my ass off every day and turned down beautiful, glistening donuts for nothing? What if nothing changes? What if I don’t change? What if I just go back to my old ways and learn nothing? I brought this up to Hank the other night as we were driving back from a wedding.

“I feel so good,” I said.
“Yeah.”
“But, I feel like we need to figure out the long game here.”
“Yeah.”
“Like, I love the short-term benefits, but what changes am I really making based off the reset?”
“Right.”
“I need to find a way to carry some of the momentum over.”
“Yeah.”

I mean, the truth is I eat on autopilot. Like gross autopilot.

Mindful eating is a thing. A very real, very useful thing. And I can’t do it. I can’t. I recently sat in on a video shoot on the topic, and I tell ya, it made so much sense in theory. In between takes, I told the instructor, “I mean, I eat on autopilot. Or at least, I’m distracted. I’d assume that’s the same thing. I’m so concentrated on making dinner, and then the walls my girls are coloring on as I’m chopping, frying and roasting, and then on getting their plates made, and then on what they’re not eating and then on disciplining at the table and then on clearing it all and then starting the dishes, and then bath time. In the noise of that process, sometimes I can’t even remember if I ate, let alone gave much thought to how I was doing it.” He just nodded. Because I am not unique in this struggle and all I had to do was shut up, listen to everything he said, and observe a brief moment of gratitude before my meals.

It doesn’t help that things like chocolate-covered almonds with sea salt and long Johns just seem to jump from counters, cabinets and kids plates into my welcoming mouth hole. It’s that 30 seconds. The initial smell and sight. If I can get through that 30 seconds, I’m good. Think about how brief a taste of something is. Some things, not many, are worth it. There’s this new place in town everyone’s talking about that makes ice cream sandwiches with fresh-baked donuts for buns. I’m thinkin’ that’s worth it.

No matter how many times we do this and no matter how many times it’s happened before, it always amazes me how some people just have to salt your game. If you aren’t drinking, aren’t having dessert, aren’t giving yourself a pass, people just can’t stand not commenting on it. The pressure is so ridiculous. And then you feel like you have to justify what you’re buying, eating and using to make your own body go. If I’m shoving something down your pie hole against your will, please feel free to engage me. Otherwise …

So, here we are.

I haven’t really answered the second question because I guess the answer is I can’t really answer it. I guess what comes next is my best effort. Every time I adjust my diet and become more food aware, I learn something. I learn what my body feels like when I feed it shit, and what it feels like when I’m a clean machine.

We’re done for now and I lost a little bit of weight, got a lot of great sleep and found some great new recipes. But, of course, I’ll spend the next week analyzing how I could have done better. I could have exercised more, I could have relaxed on the dried fruit. But perfection is so boring.

If you ever try a Whole30, here are a few you don’t want to miss …

Slow Cooker Korean Grass Fed Short Ribs from Nom Nom Paleo

I had a friend who spoke of these ribs and I didn’t listen. Then, one day I did. And I hated myself for all the opportunities I’d missed with these succulent little suckers throughout the years. About 15 minutes of prep and 7-9 hours in a slowcooker stand between you and a full mouthgasm.

Gluten, Grain, and Garbage Free Chick-fil-A Nuggets from The Domestic Man

Saved me with the chicks.

Plantain Tortillas from Eat Your Beets

OK, SWYPO is a very real threat with Whole30. These were my regular appointment with my trousers. I love these tortillas as buns for a bison burger, as shells for carnitas and, when things get really hairy, with almond butter and sliced strawberries.

*Honorable mention to everything in the Whole30 Cookbook

Mindfulness

Drop the damn bananas

July 21, 2016

What if I just let go?
What if I dropped all the weight, right here, right now?
What if I managed to slip away?

Like the majority of my fellow estimated 152 million bloggers pounding the keys somewhere in the world right now, this particular platform is not my primary source of income. [I’ll pause here so you can recover from that shock. We good? OK.] Yes, I have an honest-to-goodness 9-to-5 job in the corporate world. You know, the one. Where women wear smart skirt suits with white tennis shoes and everyone keeps a carpal tunnel brace in their top drawer for days when it’s damp outside. This is just my side gig. My alter ego.

One of the perks of my big girl job is that I get to do a lot of writing and a lot of editing. One of my favorite people to work with is my main man Dr. Dave. You know that dance you do when engaging in a conversation with a hyper-intelligent human being … When you nod on the outside and say things like, “How interesting,” and “Huh. Really?” but inside your brain is like an Amazing Race contestant frantically trying to put the puzzle together? But then, like Steve drawing the final hint on Blue’s Clues (I will never acknowledge Joe), it’s all there. Bam! You get it. And it’s genius. Life-altering even. It’s the type of exchange that’s worth the work because the thought changes you. It expands and alters the makeup of your brain. That’s my entire relationship reading and listening to Dr. Dave. The guy has this gift for inspiring and shaking cores and soothing souls. Sometimes he takes a straight path to deliver his message, but often he invites you along on a series of unexpected U-turns and gravel paths before delivering you to the promise land. To the epiphany. Yeah … he’s one of those people.

Recently, Dr. Dave shared one of his favorite metaphors. It seems that some time ago, in a small village in India, there was an obnoxious monkey population. The primates were so numerous, in fact, the townspeople decided to round them all up and take them to a lovely little monkey farm in the country somewhere, where they would have a better life and live out the rest of their monkey days. To catch them, the people would place a bunch of bananas inside an upside-down bamboo cage with fairly narrow bars. The animals would approach the cage, see the fruit, reach in and grab the banana. With their hands clenched tightly around the fruit, the monkeys couldn’t remove their arm from the cage. The harder and longer they would try, the louder their screams would get. This attracted more curious monkeys who would repeat the same imprisoning process. And thus the animals were had.

Of course the monkeys could have escaped easily if they would have just let go of the fruit. If they’d just drop the damn banana they would be free to go swing with their posse through the mossy trees and throw poo like little jungle punks. But they just couldn’t. They were panicking. They were frozen with fear. They were reacting. They were trapped. Then Dr. Dave went on to define what constitutes a banana for us – that being the feelings or actions or situations in your life that elicit a strong mental or physical response. Probably detrimental. Likely toxic. Definitely negative.

Holding Onto Bananas

After reading Dr. Dave’s piece, I spent nearly my entire 3-mile run the next morning thinking about my bananas; The toxic things that I cling to and the response they trigger in me. The noxious notions that infiltrate my thoughts and ridiculous requests I place on myself.

I hold onto sugar.
Boo hoo, I know. But truly I’ve long battled some sweet, sticky food addiction demons. Growing up, treats and large meals were a mark of celebration. I, in turn, have carried this tradition on to my own family. Frozen yogurt, brownies, greasy gyros from our favorite place … it all adds up to a slippery equation of food + happy = reward. And who doesn’t want to be rewarded? Like, all the time. The problem is I’ve come to a place where those little white granules (perhaps the poop of angels, I hypothesize) now own me. They control me. They take me so high and then drop me on my head. But no matter how many times I tell myself – usually in the haze of a sugar-induced hangover – that I am done, I end up following the syrupy trail right back to the honey pot.

I hold onto perfection.
Real talk for a second. I started an entire blog based on this concept. Based on the pursuit of a perfect balance between all of the parts of myself that battle for time and attention. I want to see the world. I want to stop screaming at my daughters. I want to cook with ingredients I pluck from an organic raised garden bed. I want to kill it at work. I want to be perfect at this blog where I write about my pursuit of perfection. With my body, with my habits, with my profession, with my parenting, I hold onto these unrealistic expectations for myself so tightly that I don’t even know what a feeling of perfection would smell, taste, look or feel like at this point even if I somehow managed to reach it. Sometimes I think it’s just easier to keep looking past where we are rather than live contently in all the messy, dirty, imperfect bits of ourselves. Defining yourself as a work in progress is the ideal guise for an existence riddled with rough edges.

I hold onto fear.
This is a huge one for me. I’ve talked about my anxiety and I’ve talked about my struggles with parenting in this violent world here before, but truly, the terror I live with runs crazy-deep. I attribute at least some of this to the fact that I am a prisoner of push notifications. My job requires me to be online for the majority of the day. My phone, my laptop, my desktop, my television, whatever it is, there’s some horrifying news alert popping up on it. Flashes of events that point to the demise of character and kindness and sanity and love for humanity flood my newsfeed and thus, my mind. In one of my more recent social media-induced meltdowns, my brother (you remember Just Matt) told me to get a grip and remember they’re just leaving out the good stuff.

My thought of the day for you regarding the world we live in … You’re better off not watching the news. It will make you a happier person. Something negative happens and they beat it to death to keep you tuned in. Try shutting it off. The world is full of wonderful people, so many caring and selfless things happen on a daily basis, but that isn’t what anyone focuses on. All any of us can do is help one another and love one another and raise our kids that way and to not let a few bad people keep them from loving every minute of the short life we all get. The kids and I will sometimes pick up a bill in a restaurant for someone. They love it and you have to think that it makes that person’s heart happy and makes them want to pass that feeling along to someone else. Bad things have happened since man was created and always will, but at the end of the day people are good, that just isn’t news. The positives far outweigh the negatives on a daily basis, but just like the evening news, we tend to focus 28 minutes on all of the negative and just set aside the last 2 minutes to talk about how a stranger donated an organ for some child they don’t even know so they can live a happy normal life and love their friends and family. So shut off the crazy people on the news and focus on all the awesome people you are surrounded by on a daily basis, like me for starters.

– he wrote

And he’s right. I know he’s right. But then I go to sleep and have vivid dreams of nuclear attacks and running through crazed streets grasping my sobbing children and all the horrible things the dark parts of our brain push aside during the daylight hours. And I wake up drenched in sweat and succumb to the fear. How can I protect them? What would I do if …? Why is the world so broken? I feel helpless and small and scared to death.

I hold onto my routine.
Ask anyone who’s close to me and they will tell you I live and die by my meticulous schedule. They’ll also tell you it’s annoying AF. Almost any hour of the day I can tell you where I’ll be and what I’ll be doing with about 80 percent accuracy. Any deviation from this cadence requires additional planning to compensate appropriately. Any unplanned deviation has the potential to send me spiraling downward … smoking engine, towering flames, the whole scene. The thing is, it annoys me, too! I swear it does. But it’s a survival mechanism. Unfortunately, to conquer the Everest that is training for a half marathon, dressing and getting 3 children ready to go, working a full day, making dinner, doing baths, menu planning, meditating and getting a semi-decent amount of sleep, only, mind you, to wake up and do the whole damn thing over the next morning, requires a solid plan. Otherwise the wheels just fall right off the wagon. But there’s certainly a strong argument for a little more flexibility. A little less rushing along and a little more “in the moment”. But if I’m really honest, even when I’m cutting loose and playing along with the pull of the universe, I’m still calculating the time lost and required compensations in my head. Maybe that’s just being a mom. Maybe that’s just me as a mom. Maybe I’m a total psycho who needs drugs and liquor.

Free Bird

It’s brutal holding onto these bananas. They’re rotten. And honestly, it’s exhausting. So much of my energy is pumped into fueling these cyclical habits that positively drain me. So, what would happen if I just dropped them? If I let go and pulled my arm back out of the cage? Would I be free? Could escaping anxiety and shedding all that extra weight really be that simple? That obvious? Something I could have just done 5 years ago? Am I held by a trap I set out for myself? I don’t know …

If only bananas weren’t so sweet. You know how I like my sugar.

Wellness

Dr Ann’s got my back

October 9, 2015

On a crisp October evening, I found myself at a presentation by health and wellness expert Dr Ann Kulze, MD. I must admit, I was not familiar with Dr. Ann and her Eat Right for Life series. I was also likely the only person in the room who hadn’t read at least one of her other titles, subscribed to her e-newsletter or at the very least hooked up with her on social media. But after a little cyber stalking, in which I uncovered that she has the dopest kitchen and posts primal food porn on a regular basis, I realized we’d be fast friends.

Her talk centered around The Happiness Plan, her latest research and findings on eating and living for optimal brain health. The brain, she pointed out, is after all the CEO of the body. You keep it healthy, happy and functioning beautifully, and the rest of your organs should follow its lead.

My notes got a little spotty because I was multi-tasking, but there’s some really awesome stuff in here, so I thought I would share. Saddle up …

IMG_0159
Did you know the brain uses 20-30 percent of the total fuel your body consumes? It demands a robust blood flow and clocks in as the fattiest organ in your body. All of this makes omega-3 fatty acids, especially DHA, extremely important. It’s like Miracle Grow for the brain, controls inflammation and supports a healthy blood flow, but it’s tough to find in food. Start with oily fish. You should be eating oily fish at least 5 times a week. (I’ve been tappin those fins about once a month.) If you consume 1 4-5 oz. serving of salmon for lunch, you’re getting more omega-3s than the average person gets in 3-4 days. (Dr. Ann is a fan of the Wild Salmon Burgers from Costco. Bought ’em. Tried ’em. Loved ’em. Had one from freezer to plate to my gut in 10 minutes.)
You should also be eating: walnuts, canola oil, flax/chia/hemp, omega-3 eggs, wheat germ and small leafy greens
salmon
Here’s where she nailed me … When it comes to sugar, Dr. Ann says that the less you do, the happier your brain is. Fructose wrecks your metabolism and is almost a neurotoxin. And – get ready for this fun little stat – it is recommended that women consume 6 added teaspoons of sugar a day, and men 9 teaspoons. The average American gets 23 added teaspoons a day! I’m pretty sure I helped build that statistic, one cookie at a time. Today alone, at a work carry-in, I ate 1.5 bagels, 5 donut holes, a Halloween sugar cookie and a snickerdoodle. I hang my head in shame.
Cupcakes
It’s essential that we go for the right carbs for glucose. Those would be: Whole grains, beans (There are 4 varieties of beans in the top 20 list of antioxidant-rich foods. They can be canned, fresh, frozen or dry), and fruits and veggies.

Phytochemicals are freaking amazing. They evolved in plants naturally over time to keep them alive and thriving, and now, when consumed by humans in the form of plant-based foods, they can do the same for us. Dark leafy greens have more nutrients than any food. Berries are magical, and blueberries in particular have been shown to reverse signs of aging. As a rule, the deeper the color, especially blue, red and purple, the more phytochemicals you get. Black rice and beans are swimming in them.

berries

Fiber
is key because it feeds the good bacteria in our gut. Dr. Ann spent a lot of time here discussing the microbiome. Essentially, the gut and the brain are directly connected and scientists are finding more and more that our stores of good bacteria have a huge impact on how our body reacts to illness, trauma and even stress. Have you ever noticed that people with chronic stomach issues are typically very easily stressed? According to Dr. Ann, there’s a legit connection between those anxieties and bad microbiome. You want an abundance of that good bacteria for the best defense, and the single greatest influence on microbiome is diet. Eat a generous variety of plant-based food whenever possible and stock up on Mother Nature’s Prozac, fiber. You want 25-35 g each day, but most of us only get about 12.

When she switched to talking about the power of protein, she first gave a list of good options; kefir, eggs, nuts, poultry, beans. But then she explained that instead of memorizing all the good, it was simpler to just recognize the bad, and that’s red meat. If you’re going to have it, she suggests adding moisture, marinating it, adding it to a stew or incorporating it into a meatloaf.

beef
We then bounced over to the vitamin D deficiency epidemic sweeping our nation. While it’s necessary for mood regulation and controlling inflammation, we’ve all listened to the warnings about sun exposure and backed ourselves into a shaded, vitamin D-deficient corner. This can be linked to pain, stress, fatigue, depression, cognitive decline and MS/Parkinson’s. Aim for regular, safe sun exposure, especially on the arms and legs, oily fish, egg yolks, and at least 2,000 D3 supplement each day,
A few final suggestions included spicing things up  with ginger, turmeric, curry, garlic and cinnamon, to gain their beneficial effects, as well as a nice, super-dark chocolate, in moderation.
But her magic pill – the one that boosts mood, prevents depression and so, so much more – is exercise. It is, in Dr. Ann’s world at least, a non negotiable. She suggests at least 30 minutes of moderate activity 5 days a week or 45 minutes vigorous exercise 3 times a week. Optimal is moderate aerobic activity 5 hours a week or vigorous aerobic activity for at least 2 hours a week. You should also sprinkle in resistance activity at least 2 days a week.

 She kept coming back to the simple concept that she never gets sick, because she just eats real food. She doesn’t have to worry about reducing the processed crap, because she just eats real food. She’s popular on Instagram because she takes pictures of her eating real food. By the end, it was starting to come together.

produce
So, those were my notes. She emailed me after asking for pictures and I responded with the images and a quick note about how inspirational her talk was. I told her it might just convince me to give up my sugar habit once and for all. A few hours later I received a response saying she was, “really pulling for me with the sugar thing.” Thanks, Dr. Ann. Thanks.
IMG_0165
Pages

Tips and tricks for eating clean

July 30, 2015

Screen Shot 2015-07-29 at 9.40.59 PM

No matter how far I fall down the digital rabbit hole, there’s still just something about seeing your name in a byline in print. So, it was a sweet treat when kit asked me back to pen another editorial piece for their latest issue. (It’s always nice when someone calls for a second date, right?) I love the look of kit, and I’m all in for anything by women, for women.

Last time, I compiled a list of plants for the landscaping novice. But this article was all about the body. Specifically, what we put in it. The pros at Living with Intention Inc. were so great to work with and the pointers are like CliffsNotes for feeding your family food that’s perfect in its pure, clean simplicity. Dig in and start making small shifts to benefit those little faces around the dinner table.

KITCleanEat

KITCleanEat (1) 2