There is little I enjoy more than summertime eating. Ironically, my disfunctionalities with food decrease as the amount of skin I expose increases.
Is this because summer cuisine is healthier? Certainly not! I can't begin to fathom the amount of butter I consume with my lobsters, clams, crabs and corn on the cob. Who would want to consider the amount of cholesterol packed into that steak sizzling away on the grill, or the cheeseburger and hot dog keeping it company? And never mind the sugar necessary for one of the quintessential summer pies (blueberry, strawberry and cherry, oh my!). Should we talk about summer beverage consumption? Best not...
Is it because I exercise more? Well, I do, but the increase in exercise is marginal, at best. In non-summer months, I am more likely to get to the gym. In summer, I'm more likely to get outside and move around. Maybe I have a bit more time to dedicate to exercise. But that is countered with the additional time I have to socialize. I always loose a few pounds in the summer, but that just balances the hibernation weight I take on in winter. So that's not it...
My disfunctionality with food decreases as I bare more skin, I think, because summer equals leisure. Summer, for me, means a less worrisome existence. Summer brings about a perspective on life that is healthy: Enjoy life, family, friends, nature, opportunities...along with BBQs, fireworks and fireflies. This relaxed -- albeit not lackadaisical -- take on life translates to feelings about and relationships with food and nutrition and diet and body image. The focus, instead of being on consumption, is on appreciation and enjoyment and pleasure, often for pleasure's sake alone.
Imagine if we could take our sun-soaked summer ideals and carry them through the year...
Wednesday, July 8, 2009
Friday, March 27, 2009
The Worst Thing Since Sliced Bread
I don't know how sliced bread was invented, by whom or when. I don't know which company first offered it to the consumer and I don't know which market first stocked it on the shelves. And I don't really care.
What I do care about is what sliced bread has come to represent, and that is ease and convenience in food. And I also care that it has become the "best thing" in our cultural cliches. It's time to modify our thinking and perspective to view something, like all you can eat soup, salad and breadsticks at Olive Garden, for example, as the worst thing since sliced bread.
But we don't have to go as far as AYCE offers at restaurants to develop a list of things as bad as sliced bread. All of the little things that we have come to enjoy as conveniences have made us lazy in our thinking about food, lazy in our consumption of food, and lazy...period. We are thoughtless with our purchases because food is so cheap. But that attitude sure has been expensive to our health, hasn't it? We buy and cook and gorge and do all of it without considering the consequences because there are so few consequences: replacing food is cheap and easy.
And I submit that this desire for sliced-bread-convenience has driven us into the piggish consumerism we're trying to wade out of now in the financial markets. What we wanted in our food - easy, quick, convenient and requiring no hard work and no thought - we came to want from our mortgages. In 2005, when I was shopping for a house and could show only a substitute teacher's salary, I was pre-approved for a nearly half-million dollar mortage. I raised alarm bells in a conversation with friends, but they didn't flinch. Why would they? Everything had (or should) become quick, easy, convenient, effortless, right? We wanted everything just like we want our bread.
Now we see that there are dangers to this kind of thinking. We "advanced" from sliced bread to fast food, and look where that's gotten us. We "advanced" from sliced bread to frozen dinners in family sized packages, and look where that's gotten us. We "advanced" from sliced bread to sugar-laded, pre-made and pre-packaged iced tea, and look where that's gotten us. (As an aside, it's tea bags and water, for *$!@ sake!!! How hard is it to make?!?!) We "advanced" from sliced bread to canned friuts and vegetables and herbs in squeeze tubes. We "advanced" from sliced bread to sliced deli meats. We "advanced" from sliced bread to processed cheese slices.
Yes, I realize that all of this cheap food means that fewer people go hungry. But I think that all of this cheap food has also cheapened us. We don't appreciate the planning and knowledge and skill and effort that goes into feeding our families for a week because everything is so cheap and easy, so we have taken it all for granted and become disgusting gluttons.
And if all this time we had been buying fresh-baked bread from the local baker or freshly harvested vegetables and butchered meats from the local farmer, our food would have been more expensive, yes, but our purchasing would have had to have been more conservative, and our eating habits would have naturally been moderated.
So the next time you see that something is so easy, so dangerously easy, think of it as the worst thing since sliced bread.
What I do care about is what sliced bread has come to represent, and that is ease and convenience in food. And I also care that it has become the "best thing" in our cultural cliches. It's time to modify our thinking and perspective to view something, like all you can eat soup, salad and breadsticks at Olive Garden, for example, as the worst thing since sliced bread.
But we don't have to go as far as AYCE offers at restaurants to develop a list of things as bad as sliced bread. All of the little things that we have come to enjoy as conveniences have made us lazy in our thinking about food, lazy in our consumption of food, and lazy...period. We are thoughtless with our purchases because food is so cheap. But that attitude sure has been expensive to our health, hasn't it? We buy and cook and gorge and do all of it without considering the consequences because there are so few consequences: replacing food is cheap and easy.
And I submit that this desire for sliced-bread-convenience has driven us into the piggish consumerism we're trying to wade out of now in the financial markets. What we wanted in our food - easy, quick, convenient and requiring no hard work and no thought - we came to want from our mortgages. In 2005, when I was shopping for a house and could show only a substitute teacher's salary, I was pre-approved for a nearly half-million dollar mortage. I raised alarm bells in a conversation with friends, but they didn't flinch. Why would they? Everything had (or should) become quick, easy, convenient, effortless, right? We wanted everything just like we want our bread.
Now we see that there are dangers to this kind of thinking. We "advanced" from sliced bread to fast food, and look where that's gotten us. We "advanced" from sliced bread to frozen dinners in family sized packages, and look where that's gotten us. We "advanced" from sliced bread to sugar-laded, pre-made and pre-packaged iced tea, and look where that's gotten us. (As an aside, it's tea bags and water, for *$!@ sake!!! How hard is it to make?!?!) We "advanced" from sliced bread to canned friuts and vegetables and herbs in squeeze tubes. We "advanced" from sliced bread to sliced deli meats. We "advanced" from sliced bread to processed cheese slices.
Yes, I realize that all of this cheap food means that fewer people go hungry. But I think that all of this cheap food has also cheapened us. We don't appreciate the planning and knowledge and skill and effort that goes into feeding our families for a week because everything is so cheap and easy, so we have taken it all for granted and become disgusting gluttons.
And if all this time we had been buying fresh-baked bread from the local baker or freshly harvested vegetables and butchered meats from the local farmer, our food would have been more expensive, yes, but our purchasing would have had to have been more conservative, and our eating habits would have naturally been moderated.
So the next time you see that something is so easy, so dangerously easy, think of it as the worst thing since sliced bread.
Sunday, March 22, 2009
And a Sprinkle of Depression
The value of my house is down. So is the value of my long-term investment portfolio and my short-term savings account. And people in my workplace - people I know, enjoy and respect - will likely be out of a job in a few months. These are depressing times...no wonder it's called a Depression.
But I do see a gleam of light, a streak of sunshine, a sparkle of glitter in this world of down-sloping line graphs. And that is in the potential shift in our relationship with food and consumption.
I've witnessed it in my own household. I am becoming more mindful about my food purchases and my meal planning and the cost per meal and opportunities for new dishes made from leftovers. I am loathe to waste or throw away or allow to spoil. Before shopping a mood or a craving, I'm checking my cupboards and refrigerator and freezer for options. I am becoming aware of my eating plan. And this is a bonus.
And I'm seeing it elsewhere. A couple of weeks ago, Chip made dinner from a recipe he found on YouTube. It was tasty...and it was from a video of 93-year-old Clara Cannucciari making recipes she learned and used during the Great Depression. Clever. And she now has a DVD for sale. Clearly others are trying out ways to conserve in their consumption as well.
So logically, we can foresee that monetary conservation in consumption may lead to dietary conservation in consumption, and hopefully a more balanced approach to food. If we are becoming thoughtful about food costs, then we will become thoughtful about the health costs of eating what we want, eating when we want, eating on impulse or craving or opportunity. We will naturally become more thoughtful about portions so that we stretch our dollars, which will lead to us becoming more realistic about portions so we stop stretching our waistlines. I'm convinced that gradually, people will realize that the amount of pasta they just cooked for dinner for 3 or 4 could actually be 6 or 7 meals. That's a difference that will add to the wallet and subtract from the scale. I'm convinced that when people go out for a dinner that once was the norm but now is a treat in these stressful times, more leftovers will be brought home to become a second or third meal. Instead of taking the "I want (fill in entree name)" bend, more people will compromise their yens in favor of splitting meals.
We have been a consumer and consumption-driven society. So it is natural that any economic downturn - especially one this broad and deep globally - will make us check that. My hope is that the correction in the markets will lead to a correction in our relationship with food.
But I do see a gleam of light, a streak of sunshine, a sparkle of glitter in this world of down-sloping line graphs. And that is in the potential shift in our relationship with food and consumption.
I've witnessed it in my own household. I am becoming more mindful about my food purchases and my meal planning and the cost per meal and opportunities for new dishes made from leftovers. I am loathe to waste or throw away or allow to spoil. Before shopping a mood or a craving, I'm checking my cupboards and refrigerator and freezer for options. I am becoming aware of my eating plan. And this is a bonus.
And I'm seeing it elsewhere. A couple of weeks ago, Chip made dinner from a recipe he found on YouTube. It was tasty...and it was from a video of 93-year-old Clara Cannucciari making recipes she learned and used during the Great Depression. Clever. And she now has a DVD for sale. Clearly others are trying out ways to conserve in their consumption as well.
So logically, we can foresee that monetary conservation in consumption may lead to dietary conservation in consumption, and hopefully a more balanced approach to food. If we are becoming thoughtful about food costs, then we will become thoughtful about the health costs of eating what we want, eating when we want, eating on impulse or craving or opportunity. We will naturally become more thoughtful about portions so that we stretch our dollars, which will lead to us becoming more realistic about portions so we stop stretching our waistlines. I'm convinced that gradually, people will realize that the amount of pasta they just cooked for dinner for 3 or 4 could actually be 6 or 7 meals. That's a difference that will add to the wallet and subtract from the scale. I'm convinced that when people go out for a dinner that once was the norm but now is a treat in these stressful times, more leftovers will be brought home to become a second or third meal. Instead of taking the "I want (fill in entree name)" bend, more people will compromise their yens in favor of splitting meals.
We have been a consumer and consumption-driven society. So it is natural that any economic downturn - especially one this broad and deep globally - will make us check that. My hope is that the correction in the markets will lead to a correction in our relationship with food.
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Who's the Loser?
So I'm addicted to The Biggest Loser. I admit it, okay? I find such inspiration in watching these (often morbidly) obese people lose weight, overcome obstacles, reach goals and milestones and push themselves and dig deep and find (regain?) a determination that was long since lost. I cry when their families see them for the first time in weeks. I cry when they get voted off campus or have to vote each other off campus and I cry when they show pride in themselves. I think of them when I'm at the gym, drawing motivation from their hard work, to push myself to go a little harder, to lift another repetition, to add weight, to work a bit longer.
But is this sometimes empathetic, sometimes parasitic "relationship" I have with the contestants on this show deserved? I do wonder, how does this kind of weight gain happen? I have moments when I can easily imagine how someone could balloon to the equivalent of multiple people in one body. I know I've ballooned, albeit on a much smaller scale, during times in my life when I lost focus and decided - yes, decided - that I didn't care about my food intake or my workout routine. I've had ups and downs and stages when exercise was not part of my routine...at all. And let's face it: Genetics plays a part and I am pretty lucky in that area, all in all.
Then I see the segments that include the contestants talking about their former eating habits. An entire pizza? And not part of a dare - this is part of your regular eating? How many fast food meals in a week? In a sitting? We all have pressures and responsibilities and time limitations and cravings and weak moments and any other excuse to have a bad day. But there's something that hits beyond the bizarre about eating multiple McDonald's sandwiches in one meal that can only be summarized like this: responsibility for self.
And then I wonder, as I see other reports that America is spreading not only its fast food chains to our foreign neighbors near and far, but also our obesity and cancer rates, whether some of this self-negligent, self-destructive behavior is a subconscious retaliation to the hyper-thin ideal that's continuously propagated by the media and the culture. Could I imagine myself thinking, "Screw it, I'll have another Big Mac, I'm never going to look like (fill in the celebrity name of your choosing) anyway"? Likely not.
Then again, I always said I'd never watch reality TV shows...
But is this sometimes empathetic, sometimes parasitic "relationship" I have with the contestants on this show deserved? I do wonder, how does this kind of weight gain happen? I have moments when I can easily imagine how someone could balloon to the equivalent of multiple people in one body. I know I've ballooned, albeit on a much smaller scale, during times in my life when I lost focus and decided - yes, decided - that I didn't care about my food intake or my workout routine. I've had ups and downs and stages when exercise was not part of my routine...at all. And let's face it: Genetics plays a part and I am pretty lucky in that area, all in all.
Then I see the segments that include the contestants talking about their former eating habits. An entire pizza? And not part of a dare - this is part of your regular eating? How many fast food meals in a week? In a sitting? We all have pressures and responsibilities and time limitations and cravings and weak moments and any other excuse to have a bad day. But there's something that hits beyond the bizarre about eating multiple McDonald's sandwiches in one meal that can only be summarized like this: responsibility for self.
And then I wonder, as I see other reports that America is spreading not only its fast food chains to our foreign neighbors near and far, but also our obesity and cancer rates, whether some of this self-negligent, self-destructive behavior is a subconscious retaliation to the hyper-thin ideal that's continuously propagated by the media and the culture. Could I imagine myself thinking, "Screw it, I'll have another Big Mac, I'm never going to look like (fill in the celebrity name of your choosing) anyway"? Likely not.
Then again, I always said I'd never watch reality TV shows...
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
Celebrity Skin
Okay, so it's been established that we live in a diet culture. One that doesn't promote health, but rather weight and image. One that encourages fluctuation and self-consciousness. And these messages permeate our media and our perceptions of ourselves and each other.
So let's consider what the beauty ideal is today. Look at the celebrities that society deems beautiful. Most are waifishly skinny, many are over-exercised and lose weight when their celebrity status climbs. I have read numerous interviews with said celebrities who have cited their diets and workouts when they are preparing for a big role or a big event or a tour or whatever. Steamed fish and steamed vegetables and soy milk only. Three hours of exercise a day. No sugar, no carbs, organic food only, whole grains only, macrobiotic diets. Egg whites, salad, dried fruits.
All, though, are sending a message: To be beautiful, do not embrace balance and diversity and moderation in your food and exercise habits. To be beautiful, deprive yourself. To be beautiful, be an extremist. To be beautiful, loathe the natural shape your body takes when you eat and exercise healthily. To be beautiful, force it to conform to society's version of beautiful. To be beautiful, change.
So let's consider what the beauty ideal is today. Look at the celebrities that society deems beautiful. Most are waifishly skinny, many are over-exercised and lose weight when their celebrity status climbs. I have read numerous interviews with said celebrities who have cited their diets and workouts when they are preparing for a big role or a big event or a tour or whatever. Steamed fish and steamed vegetables and soy milk only. Three hours of exercise a day. No sugar, no carbs, organic food only, whole grains only, macrobiotic diets. Egg whites, salad, dried fruits.
All, though, are sending a message: To be beautiful, do not embrace balance and diversity and moderation in your food and exercise habits. To be beautiful, deprive yourself. To be beautiful, be an extremist. To be beautiful, loathe the natural shape your body takes when you eat and exercise healthily. To be beautiful, force it to conform to society's version of beautiful. To be beautiful, change.
Saturday, January 24, 2009
Reinforcement
And I should be on a diet. Shouldn't I? Shouldn't everyone? That's what I'm hearing and seeing everywhere. Online adds for green tea and acai berries and super weight loss foods, whatever they are. On television, Slim Fast and Weight Watchers and NutriSystem and Jenny Craig. And these celebrity endorsers, please. Enough. Now I understand Rachel Ray has diet secrets. Halle-freakin-luyah. Because Oprah sure let me down.
Lite yogurt and baked potato chips and fat-free everything and the Special K diet and Dr. Atkins and South Beach and The Zone and The 3-hour Diet and The Cookie Diet and Raw Diet and Eat to Live and fasting for God's sake and the glycemic index and the Sonoma Diet and 100 calorie packs and Medifast and diet.com and nutritiondata.com and ediet.com and dietdirect.com and calories on menus and the Subway diet and Dunkin Donuts of all companies with an "under 300 calorie egg white flatbread sandwich" and low fat and low carb and low calorie and meal replacement and metabolism enhancement and the Detox Diet and Flat Belly Diet and remember the grapefruit diet and the cabbage soup diet and the principle of halves diet and eat blueberries and almonds and spicy food to lose weight and lowfat cheese. Why the $@!% would anyone want lowfat cheese? What's the point? I might as well start the cardboard diet.
Is it any wonder that we can't eat healthily and with pleasure and do this consistently?
Lite yogurt and baked potato chips and fat-free everything and the Special K diet and Dr. Atkins and South Beach and The Zone and The 3-hour Diet and The Cookie Diet and Raw Diet and Eat to Live and fasting for God's sake and the glycemic index and the Sonoma Diet and 100 calorie packs and Medifast and diet.com and nutritiondata.com and ediet.com and dietdirect.com and calories on menus and the Subway diet and Dunkin Donuts of all companies with an "under 300 calorie egg white flatbread sandwich" and low fat and low carb and low calorie and meal replacement and metabolism enhancement and the Detox Diet and Flat Belly Diet and remember the grapefruit diet and the cabbage soup diet and the principle of halves diet and eat blueberries and almonds and spicy food to lose weight and lowfat cheese. Why the $@!% would anyone want lowfat cheese? What's the point? I might as well start the cardboard diet.
Is it any wonder that we can't eat healthily and with pleasure and do this consistently?
Friday, January 23, 2009
The Diet
The diet is eternal. Has anyone else noticed that? We're on, we're off, we're strict, we're letting go, we're comfortable, we're not. Where's the balance? Why are we all dieting? Even if you've found a euphemism for dieting, get real: you're dieting.
My lifelong diet started when I was about eight. Yes, third grade or so. Not that I was on a diet, per se, but it was certainly the age during which my indoctrination into the dieting culture began. It's when I started selecting diet soda over regular soda. The evils of soda in the American food culture notwithstanding, it is ridiculous that a third-grader would even consider such a thing. And then I discovered lite salad dressing. Yes, I was a kid who loved salads and vegetables and such. Yet I was mindful of them because of the dressing. Imagine. A kid eating exactly how and what you'd like her to be eating, and it's still causing anxiety. This prepubescent consciousness was reinforced by television, a topic for another blog. I was watching Celebrity Squares, and the question was, Which is higher in calories, pancakes with butter and syrup or a salad with ranch dressing? Guess what the answer was? Is it any wonder we are confounded by food choices?
So the diet began. I was never an overweight kid, although I was a little pudgy in a cute, baby-fat way. Then the growth spurt, which occured between 7th and 8th grade, I believe. There's actually a funny series of photos of me in a family album. One summer I'm in the pool as a normally pudgy kid, the next summer I'm all legs, waist and boobs.
The diet continued in this non-action, overly-conscious way until 12th grade. The summer prior, I went to Syracuse University. I gained the freshman 15, except that it didn't take me a semester - it took me 6 weeks. We as Americans have no training when it comes to identifying healthily-sized portions. Any AYCE sign, when you read between the neon lines, actually reads: This is what's wrong with America's food culture. And this, for me, the AYCE aspect of the student dining experience, began my true diet. You know. The one that causes a person to drastically change her intake and habits and comfort with food.
And that's the way it's been ever since. Ever since I was 17. I have been either in the overly-conscious dieting zone or the active dieting zone.
Until next time...
My lifelong diet started when I was about eight. Yes, third grade or so. Not that I was on a diet, per se, but it was certainly the age during which my indoctrination into the dieting culture began. It's when I started selecting diet soda over regular soda. The evils of soda in the American food culture notwithstanding, it is ridiculous that a third-grader would even consider such a thing. And then I discovered lite salad dressing. Yes, I was a kid who loved salads and vegetables and such. Yet I was mindful of them because of the dressing. Imagine. A kid eating exactly how and what you'd like her to be eating, and it's still causing anxiety. This prepubescent consciousness was reinforced by television, a topic for another blog. I was watching Celebrity Squares, and the question was, Which is higher in calories, pancakes with butter and syrup or a salad with ranch dressing? Guess what the answer was? Is it any wonder we are confounded by food choices?
So the diet began. I was never an overweight kid, although I was a little pudgy in a cute, baby-fat way. Then the growth spurt, which occured between 7th and 8th grade, I believe. There's actually a funny series of photos of me in a family album. One summer I'm in the pool as a normally pudgy kid, the next summer I'm all legs, waist and boobs.
The diet continued in this non-action, overly-conscious way until 12th grade. The summer prior, I went to Syracuse University. I gained the freshman 15, except that it didn't take me a semester - it took me 6 weeks. We as Americans have no training when it comes to identifying healthily-sized portions. Any AYCE sign, when you read between the neon lines, actually reads: This is what's wrong with America's food culture. And this, for me, the AYCE aspect of the student dining experience, began my true diet. You know. The one that causes a person to drastically change her intake and habits and comfort with food.
And that's the way it's been ever since. Ever since I was 17. I have been either in the overly-conscious dieting zone or the active dieting zone.
Until next time...
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