"Nothin' says lovin' like something from the oven!" That’s what Pillsbury used to say back in the ‘60s when the little dough boy would appear on TV commercials. It conjured an aspect of nurturing. Or so we were led to believe!
Since that time food has continued to take center stage as a way to make us feel good. We use it to feed emptiness and loneliness, or calm fear and anger. Given a collective national deficiency in those areas, the more food the better.
Whatever taste we crave, the food industry has stepped up to respond by layering chemical concoctions, along with heaping measures of salt, sugar and fat to feed those cravings.
As a result, what we know about eating right gets shoved aside anytime we’re within range of food laced with those addictive elements.
Not so with the good stuff.
It’s so simple ~ If you eat it, you’ll feel good, and you won’t crave more.
Here’s the key. Keep a supply of fresh fruits, vegetables and nuts around, and toss the bags of potato chips, the bottles of ranch dressing and mayo, or the left-over birthday cake.
Some other hints ~
Graze throughout the day and make your meals smaller.
Make a half sandwich instead of a whole one. Balance it with an apple instead of chips.
If you eat out a lunch, make it a larger meal than supper. Opt for home made soup as an evening meal.
Drink water, water, water! It’s the elixir of life. (Soda pop isn’t!)
Like leaving any other addiction behind, not indulging in the old “comfort foods” may feel like you’re entering unfamiliar territory.That’s because you are.
But at the same time, you can discover that there are better ways to nurture yourself ~ like learning something new, exploring the outdoors, changing hugs with someone you love, or a heart-to-heart talk that clears the air. It's a way of rediscovering passion.
Nurture your heart. Then the food part will be easy.
Sunday, September 27, 2009
Saturday, September 19, 2009
Need Grounding? Try Moroccan Vegetable Stew
It was one of those days when my very soul felt scattered in too many directions. The clue for me would be irritated drivers honking their horns or giving me finger signals as I process my “to do” list, instead of focusing on which lane of traffic I should be in.
I’ve noticed life seems to run pretty efficiently until my ego begs me to take on just one more thing, or squeeze a 45-minute errand into 20 minutes. It never works, but there are days I keep trying anyway. (It neatly fits that definition of insanity ~ you know, doing the same thing over and over again but hoping maybe ~ this time ~ it will all click?)
Of course, the day got worse. My concentration level dropped, my nerves felt frayed, and I was talking way too much and way too fast, setting the perfect stage for unmindful eating.
I reasoned that in order to “cope” with the afternoon that stretched before me, I would get a grilled cheese sandwich, along with some potato chips laced with salt and fat. Yum!
But minutes after I started eating, I became mindful again. I craved the chips, and if there had been a bag of them to go, I would have finished it off through the course of the afternoon. I felt calmer and more centered while I was eating, but not enough to deceive myself as to what was really going on here. I was getting a “fix.”
Enter Moroccan stew. I had made it the day before, and the leftover was in my refrigerator. It was a rich blend of carrots, butternut squash, onions, garbanzo beans, tomatoes and a few chopped prunes seasoned with crushed red pepper, cinnamon and cilantro. The flavors had married and produced a veritable balm for my nerves, nourishment for my body, and peace for my state of mind.
I remembered because I was mindful as I prepared it, and mindful as I had eaten it. So when I got home, I reheated the soup, ladled out a bowl of it, and then savored it as I ate.
Also, mindful of what I needed at that point in the day, I decided NOT to turn on CNN so screaming talk show guests wouldn’t upset the ambiance of this experience.
I was rewarded by my choices. As I ate the stew, I began to notice a sense of well-being. I felt GOOD. I didn’t crave more. I felt satisfied when I finished.
Life was balanced once again.
I’ve noticed life seems to run pretty efficiently until my ego begs me to take on just one more thing, or squeeze a 45-minute errand into 20 minutes. It never works, but there are days I keep trying anyway. (It neatly fits that definition of insanity ~ you know, doing the same thing over and over again but hoping maybe ~ this time ~ it will all click?)
Of course, the day got worse. My concentration level dropped, my nerves felt frayed, and I was talking way too much and way too fast, setting the perfect stage for unmindful eating.
I reasoned that in order to “cope” with the afternoon that stretched before me, I would get a grilled cheese sandwich, along with some potato chips laced with salt and fat. Yum!
But minutes after I started eating, I became mindful again. I craved the chips, and if there had been a bag of them to go, I would have finished it off through the course of the afternoon. I felt calmer and more centered while I was eating, but not enough to deceive myself as to what was really going on here. I was getting a “fix.”
Enter Moroccan stew. I had made it the day before, and the leftover was in my refrigerator. It was a rich blend of carrots, butternut squash, onions, garbanzo beans, tomatoes and a few chopped prunes seasoned with crushed red pepper, cinnamon and cilantro. The flavors had married and produced a veritable balm for my nerves, nourishment for my body, and peace for my state of mind.
I remembered because I was mindful as I prepared it, and mindful as I had eaten it. So when I got home, I reheated the soup, ladled out a bowl of it, and then savored it as I ate.
Also, mindful of what I needed at that point in the day, I decided NOT to turn on CNN so screaming talk show guests wouldn’t upset the ambiance of this experience.
I was rewarded by my choices. As I ate the stew, I began to notice a sense of well-being. I felt GOOD. I didn’t crave more. I felt satisfied when I finished.
Life was balanced once again.
Sunday, September 13, 2009
Want to Change Your Eating Habits? Try a 12 Step Program!
I have to say that AA’s 12-Step Program could come in handy as we try to change how we eat.
As is the case for anyone struggling with alcoholism, there is a recovery aspect to learning to eat well. That’s because as we change our eating patterns, emotional cues pop up that would pull us right back to a diet heavily laced with sugar, salt and sugar.
Like a shot of Jack Daniels, or a drag on a cigarette, there’s that momentary feeling that once you slurp from a boat of ice cream and chocolate syrup, or sink your teeth into a plateful of greasy, barbequed buffalo wings, you’re among “friends.”
Why’s that? Because there’s a comfort in the familiar, and what’s unfamiliar is uncomfortable. The familiar territory is the land of processed foods. Along with sugar, salt and fat, they also have chemical additives to create or enhance virtually any flavor. It’s a fool’s culinary paradise!
There’s also that aspect of routine ~ something we’ve gotten so used to ~ we feel uncomfortable if we do things differently, like drinking water instead of soda pop, or fixing a veggie plate instead of a meal, or not eating until we’re stuffed.
It’s a big part of what we as a culture DO. We work, EAT, and sleep.
But like any dysfunctional habit, we come by it honestly. It’s reinforced through TV commercials, billboards, radio ads and restaurant menus, and a plethora of other prompts.
And like any other dysfunctional habit, it helps distance us from who we are. Our feelings clue us as to what’s authentic and what’s not, and indulging in the addictive elements of food keep us stuck in the “same old, same old.”
The insight here is to realize that, just as in the case of alcoholism, there is no personal indictment here, so shame is totally out of place ~ besides being disabling and non-productive.
There is a connection between our relationship wtih food and our relationship with ourselves. Make just one change in what you drink or eat by replacing it with a food choice in its natural state. It could be as simple as drinking water instead of soda pop.
And if that feels uncomfortable, you’re probably headed in the right direction!
As is the case for anyone struggling with alcoholism, there is a recovery aspect to learning to eat well. That’s because as we change our eating patterns, emotional cues pop up that would pull us right back to a diet heavily laced with sugar, salt and sugar.
Like a shot of Jack Daniels, or a drag on a cigarette, there’s that momentary feeling that once you slurp from a boat of ice cream and chocolate syrup, or sink your teeth into a plateful of greasy, barbequed buffalo wings, you’re among “friends.”
Why’s that? Because there’s a comfort in the familiar, and what’s unfamiliar is uncomfortable. The familiar territory is the land of processed foods. Along with sugar, salt and fat, they also have chemical additives to create or enhance virtually any flavor. It’s a fool’s culinary paradise!
There’s also that aspect of routine ~ something we’ve gotten so used to ~ we feel uncomfortable if we do things differently, like drinking water instead of soda pop, or fixing a veggie plate instead of a meal, or not eating until we’re stuffed.
It’s a big part of what we as a culture DO. We work, EAT, and sleep.
But like any dysfunctional habit, we come by it honestly. It’s reinforced through TV commercials, billboards, radio ads and restaurant menus, and a plethora of other prompts.
And like any other dysfunctional habit, it helps distance us from who we are. Our feelings clue us as to what’s authentic and what’s not, and indulging in the addictive elements of food keep us stuck in the “same old, same old.”
The insight here is to realize that, just as in the case of alcoholism, there is no personal indictment here, so shame is totally out of place ~ besides being disabling and non-productive.
There is a connection between our relationship wtih food and our relationship with ourselves. Make just one change in what you drink or eat by replacing it with a food choice in its natural state. It could be as simple as drinking water instead of soda pop.
And if that feels uncomfortable, you’re probably headed in the right direction!
Monday, September 7, 2009
Few Get Their Money's Worth Outside the Kitchen!
Unless you live in a monastery, eating only healthy foods is tough to do. But you can be mindful of what you eat all the time, and that’s optimal.
When you get it right, it’s become a lifestyle. Until then, it’s practice ~ everyday. I find there can be quite a distance in between, but your paycheck can be the voice of reason.
Witness a day trip my husband and I took up on the Grand Mesa with our two small grandaughters. We set off to drive up Lands End Road through Kannah Creek to the top of the mountain to see the chipmunks that swarm around up there waiting for tourists to toss them pumpkin seeds.
Thinking ahead, I packed grapes, trail mix and bottled water. The girls had such fun seeing chipmunks for the first time, that we introduced another “first” ~ a walk in the woods. By mid-afternoon we were hungry, so we stopped into a lodge restaurant for lunch.
Thirty-five dollars later we walked out, feeling less than satisfied. I would guess the same thing plays out with parents and grandparents in restaurants everywhere.
You look on the menu for something for the kids and your options are basically the following: corn dogs with fries, grilled cheese sandwiches with fries, chicken strips with fries, or peanut butter and jelly ~ with fries.
I ordered a half turkey sandwich with a side salad, and my husband ordered a buffalo burger. We ordered one serving of chicken strips for the girls to spilt. They ate a few bites and were done.
Oh, I was mindful, alright ~ That probably with the exception of the buffalo burger, the food wasn’t that great. The chicken strips were tough and deep fried, the turkey sandwich was overloaded with meat, and we left a lot on the plates. I was mindful that the meal was minimally nutritious, and I was mindful that it cost $35!
It would have made more sense to split one buffalo burger four ways ~ and share the side order of fries.
I know there are lots of families eating out many times during the week, because it’s easier than navigating their kitchens and planning a menu. They’d probably be shocked to know how much they spend.
Those crumbled up receipts we dig out of our purses and our pants pockets at the end of the week give a pretty good picture of our choices.
If you’re mindful, you'll see that those choices can be pretty expensive ~ for your pocketbook, and eventually, for your health!
When you get it right, it’s become a lifestyle. Until then, it’s practice ~ everyday. I find there can be quite a distance in between, but your paycheck can be the voice of reason.
Witness a day trip my husband and I took up on the Grand Mesa with our two small grandaughters. We set off to drive up Lands End Road through Kannah Creek to the top of the mountain to see the chipmunks that swarm around up there waiting for tourists to toss them pumpkin seeds.
Thinking ahead, I packed grapes, trail mix and bottled water. The girls had such fun seeing chipmunks for the first time, that we introduced another “first” ~ a walk in the woods. By mid-afternoon we were hungry, so we stopped into a lodge restaurant for lunch.
Thirty-five dollars later we walked out, feeling less than satisfied. I would guess the same thing plays out with parents and grandparents in restaurants everywhere.
You look on the menu for something for the kids and your options are basically the following: corn dogs with fries, grilled cheese sandwiches with fries, chicken strips with fries, or peanut butter and jelly ~ with fries.
I ordered a half turkey sandwich with a side salad, and my husband ordered a buffalo burger. We ordered one serving of chicken strips for the girls to spilt. They ate a few bites and were done.
Oh, I was mindful, alright ~ That probably with the exception of the buffalo burger, the food wasn’t that great. The chicken strips were tough and deep fried, the turkey sandwich was overloaded with meat, and we left a lot on the plates. I was mindful that the meal was minimally nutritious, and I was mindful that it cost $35!
It would have made more sense to split one buffalo burger four ways ~ and share the side order of fries.
I know there are lots of families eating out many times during the week, because it’s easier than navigating their kitchens and planning a menu. They’d probably be shocked to know how much they spend.
Those crumbled up receipts we dig out of our purses and our pants pockets at the end of the week give a pretty good picture of our choices.
If you’re mindful, you'll see that those choices can be pretty expensive ~ for your pocketbook, and eventually, for your health!
Sunday, August 30, 2009
Eating Right Takes Focus!
When Bill Maher, TV comedian, was asked by Larry King what he thought would be the silver bullet for solving our health care crisis, Maher quipped: “Eat right!”
Maher doesn’t even shop at a grocery store ~ he gets his whole produce elsewhere. But the rest of us shop at supermarkets most of the year ~ except maybe when we can take advantage of seasonal farmers’ markets.
People generally DO want to eat right, Bill ~ I just don’t think they know how to go about it.
I would say a big part of the issue is lack of focus.
Feeding our bodies is somehow jammed into lives already crammed with way too much detail. In our culture, we have to take time to program our TV remotes, remember passwords for any online transactions, and read ingredients on food packaging. If you’re a diabetic, you’ve got another whole array of calculations to deal with.
The problem with focus generally translates into too many choices.
You know you’d eat right if you were hiking in the boonies with a backpack containing only bottled water, some apples and nuts, and a cheese sandwich. You wouldn’t even have to think about portion control. You’d have focus because you’d eat and then you’d walk, and if you got hungry, you’d stop and eat some more.
But when I opened up the fridge today at lunchtime, I found it difficult to focus because there was so much in there. (My husband also grocery shops. Ideally, one person should have that job!)
Lunch used to automatically mean a sandwich. I’m trying to get away from that routine. So as I gazed at the food, I decided once again to leave bread out of the equation. I filled a small salad plate with several things. I spotted a tropical turkey salad from the deli. The currants, pineapple, celery and turkey would all be good if they weren’t swimming in mayo. So I just took a spoonful, but also added some hot spiced cabbage and carrots I had picked up, and a few yellow pear tomatoes. I then sliced part of a nectarine to top it all off.
My focus was making sure most of what I had on my plate was whole, unprocessed food. The turkey salad was the exception. Most of what was on the plate was fruits and vegetables.
The litmus. I felt satisfied ~ but not stuffed. Food truly is an appetite suppressant if you choose the right food.
With the exception of the turkey salad, there were no ingredients to read ~ and since I only took a spoonful, I figured it didn’t matter that much anyway. Using a small plate cuts calories right away.
I’ve made a habit of eating small amounts more often during the day ~ so midway between lunch and dinner, I’ll have some nuts and the rest of that nectarine.
Right now there’s still way more food in there than we both need, so I need to call some friends to come dine and share it.
But I have to say it’s liberating to know that you need to eat relatively little to sustain your life ~ and to eat well, at that!
So, Bill ~ what do you think?
Maher doesn’t even shop at a grocery store ~ he gets his whole produce elsewhere. But the rest of us shop at supermarkets most of the year ~ except maybe when we can take advantage of seasonal farmers’ markets.
People generally DO want to eat right, Bill ~ I just don’t think they know how to go about it.
I would say a big part of the issue is lack of focus.
Feeding our bodies is somehow jammed into lives already crammed with way too much detail. In our culture, we have to take time to program our TV remotes, remember passwords for any online transactions, and read ingredients on food packaging. If you’re a diabetic, you’ve got another whole array of calculations to deal with.
The problem with focus generally translates into too many choices.
You know you’d eat right if you were hiking in the boonies with a backpack containing only bottled water, some apples and nuts, and a cheese sandwich. You wouldn’t even have to think about portion control. You’d have focus because you’d eat and then you’d walk, and if you got hungry, you’d stop and eat some more.
But when I opened up the fridge today at lunchtime, I found it difficult to focus because there was so much in there. (My husband also grocery shops. Ideally, one person should have that job!)
Lunch used to automatically mean a sandwich. I’m trying to get away from that routine. So as I gazed at the food, I decided once again to leave bread out of the equation. I filled a small salad plate with several things. I spotted a tropical turkey salad from the deli. The currants, pineapple, celery and turkey would all be good if they weren’t swimming in mayo. So I just took a spoonful, but also added some hot spiced cabbage and carrots I had picked up, and a few yellow pear tomatoes. I then sliced part of a nectarine to top it all off.
My focus was making sure most of what I had on my plate was whole, unprocessed food. The turkey salad was the exception. Most of what was on the plate was fruits and vegetables.
The litmus. I felt satisfied ~ but not stuffed. Food truly is an appetite suppressant if you choose the right food.
With the exception of the turkey salad, there were no ingredients to read ~ and since I only took a spoonful, I figured it didn’t matter that much anyway. Using a small plate cuts calories right away.
I’ve made a habit of eating small amounts more often during the day ~ so midway between lunch and dinner, I’ll have some nuts and the rest of that nectarine.
Right now there’s still way more food in there than we both need, so I need to call some friends to come dine and share it.
But I have to say it’s liberating to know that you need to eat relatively little to sustain your life ~ and to eat well, at that!
So, Bill ~ what do you think?
Wednesday, August 26, 2009
Dining on Peanut Butter & Jelly
My five-year-old grand daughter and I have a routine whenever we go to an evening yoga class (I do the yoga and she socializes!) We eat together afterwards.
She got a picnic basket for her birthday, and so this week she wanted to pack something to have after class. She’s overheard me talking a lot about portion sizes, and I guess some of it sunk in.
“Meemaw… let’s order a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to split,” she said.
Now the irony is, since we were ordering sandwiches, I was envisioning portabella mushroom and grilled vegetables on a panini bun.
For all that preaching, after a work out, I was prepared for something I felt I deserved ~ and more than half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich! I wasn’t excited. But I had to be supportive of her suggestion. It was a teachable moment ~ for both of us.
It centered around our relationship with food.
She was ready to savor the experience of a picnic with her new picnic basket, regardless of what we ate. So I went with it.
She asked for a side of carrots and celery rather than chips. Good for her! I could have weakened for the salty taste of chips. I relented when she asked for a small Dr. Pepper. We collected our order at Spoons Bistro & Bakery, placed it in the basket, and then went out on the lawn.
A ritual was unveiled before my eyes. First, a tiny, napkin-sized cloth was spread on the ground. Then she pulled out small, plastic glasses and two little saucers. She placed a generous half -a- sandwich on each saucer with the raw vegetables, and my tea and her pop were poured into the glasses. It was something to behold. We were ready to dine!
She took her time ~ much longer than I had planned ~ as she talked about how much fun this was, and got up a few times to run across the lawn.
The Zen of it all was when we finished, I was satisfied ~ but not before experiencing some moments of discomfort. I realized I’m usually in a rush, and I can easily put aside resolve when it comes to food. I got a peak at my addictive side.
At the end of our “dinner”, I felt somewhat liberated ~ at least for today. Like those tough yoga poses, I had coaxed myself into a new and unfamiliar position.
I know all about good choices, as most people do. I’m writing about it all the time on this blog.
But it’s well worth noting here that few of us are paragons of virtue. We strive to succeed, but we often fall short until our awareness catches up with what we’re trying to accomplish.
Our relationship with food reflects much of where we are on the journey! More to come ~
She got a picnic basket for her birthday, and so this week she wanted to pack something to have after class. She’s overheard me talking a lot about portion sizes, and I guess some of it sunk in.
“Meemaw… let’s order a peanut butter and jelly sandwich to split,” she said.
Now the irony is, since we were ordering sandwiches, I was envisioning portabella mushroom and grilled vegetables on a panini bun.
For all that preaching, after a work out, I was prepared for something I felt I deserved ~ and more than half of a peanut butter and jelly sandwich! I wasn’t excited. But I had to be supportive of her suggestion. It was a teachable moment ~ for both of us.
It centered around our relationship with food.
She was ready to savor the experience of a picnic with her new picnic basket, regardless of what we ate. So I went with it.
She asked for a side of carrots and celery rather than chips. Good for her! I could have weakened for the salty taste of chips. I relented when she asked for a small Dr. Pepper. We collected our order at Spoons Bistro & Bakery, placed it in the basket, and then went out on the lawn.
A ritual was unveiled before my eyes. First, a tiny, napkin-sized cloth was spread on the ground. Then she pulled out small, plastic glasses and two little saucers. She placed a generous half -a- sandwich on each saucer with the raw vegetables, and my tea and her pop were poured into the glasses. It was something to behold. We were ready to dine!
She took her time ~ much longer than I had planned ~ as she talked about how much fun this was, and got up a few times to run across the lawn.
The Zen of it all was when we finished, I was satisfied ~ but not before experiencing some moments of discomfort. I realized I’m usually in a rush, and I can easily put aside resolve when it comes to food. I got a peak at my addictive side.
At the end of our “dinner”, I felt somewhat liberated ~ at least for today. Like those tough yoga poses, I had coaxed myself into a new and unfamiliar position.
I know all about good choices, as most people do. I’m writing about it all the time on this blog.
But it’s well worth noting here that few of us are paragons of virtue. We strive to succeed, but we often fall short until our awareness catches up with what we’re trying to accomplish.
Our relationship with food reflects much of where we are on the journey! More to come ~
Monday, August 24, 2009
Eat More ~ Crave Less?
I heard it today ~ “Food is an appetite suppressant!”
It was in the context of a presentation by Ryan Andrews, a registered dietitian, who lectured at Mesa State College this afternoon. It’s unequivocally true ~ if we’re talking about natural, whole foods.
I tried it out. A friend shared a recipe for a zucchini soup ~
made by basically packing a blender full of raw zucchini, thawed frozen peas, avocado, fresh basil, garlic and lemon juice ~ along with a cup of water.
I ladled the pureed mixture into a small bowl, topped it with a few slivers of goat cheese and some ground pepper, and savored it. It’s what would be called “energy dense” food because it’s loaded with nutrients.
There were no cravings for a slice of sour dough bread slathered with butter to go with it, or for a dessert afterwards since, after all, it was just soup. I felt as though I had had plenty to eat ~ and since it was the last meal of the day, I most likely had.
I still had some work to do on my computer, and I felt alert enough to do that ~ unlike if I had consumed some carb-rich foods that would left me partly thinking about the work I had to do, and partly about what else I might find in the kitchen.
Andrews is right. If you choose the right stuff, it satisfies you.
If weight loss is your goal, you can think less about counting calories, and focus more on choosing from a wide selection of energy-dense foods. How liberating is that?
It was in the context of a presentation by Ryan Andrews, a registered dietitian, who lectured at Mesa State College this afternoon. It’s unequivocally true ~ if we’re talking about natural, whole foods.
I tried it out. A friend shared a recipe for a zucchini soup ~
made by basically packing a blender full of raw zucchini, thawed frozen peas, avocado, fresh basil, garlic and lemon juice ~ along with a cup of water.
I ladled the pureed mixture into a small bowl, topped it with a few slivers of goat cheese and some ground pepper, and savored it. It’s what would be called “energy dense” food because it’s loaded with nutrients.
There were no cravings for a slice of sour dough bread slathered with butter to go with it, or for a dessert afterwards since, after all, it was just soup. I felt as though I had had plenty to eat ~ and since it was the last meal of the day, I most likely had.
I still had some work to do on my computer, and I felt alert enough to do that ~ unlike if I had consumed some carb-rich foods that would left me partly thinking about the work I had to do, and partly about what else I might find in the kitchen.
Andrews is right. If you choose the right stuff, it satisfies you.
If weight loss is your goal, you can think less about counting calories, and focus more on choosing from a wide selection of energy-dense foods. How liberating is that?
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