Healing

I’m Still Alive (And Eating a Weird Diet)

April 10, 2017 by arfoodie 1 Comment

So, after deciding a while back that I wasn’t as interested in covering food news here anymore, I promptly got wrapped up in my other projects and left this poor old blog to rot. Which is a shame, because I really do still love to write, and I do still cook some nice stuff at home occasionally.

arfoodjobs.com, now three years in, is doing well. If you’re in the “business,” holla. We’ve even done a test run of a workforce training program, kind of a pre-culinary-school sort of thing, with great success. And to get some writing out, I’m also a new “Expert Columnist” (ha!) for Foodable, an online industry publication for foodservice folk. It’s quite the honor.

Meanwhile, all my old health issues continue to come and go. I only bring it up because the original purpose of this blog was to help others who might be in the same boat, encouraging you to cook as much as you can. It really does help.

The latest: Under the direction of a new (functional medicine, actual MD) doctor, I did TWO rounds of a 6-week or so elimination diet, with all kinds of supplements, probiotics, enzymes and the like. I cheated a bit on the first one so I felt that I should do it again.

It’s basically paleo with rice allowed, I guess. I felt pretty darn good while on it, but as I’m tapering off of the supplements and reintroducing things, I’ve felt pretty bad. So I may be on some form of this for the long haul. Sigh. The food is good, but darn it, I want cake and cheese and eggs and all the things. I’m holding out for Easter this time around, then back on the wagon.

Let me know if you’ve tried a special diet (paleo, GAPS, FODMAP, etc.) to combat your health issues, and how successful you were in sticking to it. I’m wondering if I can manage this long-term, especially being in the food business.

I’ll try to write occasionally with a recipe or two from the new “lifestyle.” We’ll see if it’s permanent.

3 Things I Learned from a 3-Day Juice Cleanse

January 7, 2014 by arfoodie 6 Comments

A glass of Joe Cross’ Mean Green juice, from last spring. Clearly I hadn’t taken down the sugar monster then, either (see background).

I’m not a huge fan of New Years resolutions. Setting unwieldy goals that will be forgotten by February seems like an awful way to start the first days of the calendar. That being said, last week seemed a peachy time to do a juice cleanse, if only to scrub away the cobwebs and funk built up by a holiday season full of heavy food, sweets and cured meats.

Then it appeared in my Facebook newsfeed: a three-day cleanse featuring juice, and a plan written by the people who brought you the Food Matters documentary film. They advertised a free set of recipes and plans for the three days, although the acquisition of which was confusing and I ended up buying the e-book version. This plan seemed better than others I’ve tried before (and failed — my brain freaks out without carbs); it included real food in the form of salads for lunch and a vegetable soup for dinner, with juices and teas in-between.

Here are some things I learned in the process:

1. Some cleanse is better than none at all.

I cheated. Big time.

I actually behaved and followed the plan most of the time. I drank my large glass of water first thing every morning. I actually enjoyed my alkaline veggie juice for breakfast each day (kale, celery, cucumber, parsley and lime), although I cheated a bit and added an apple a couple of times. The large salads at lunch were filling and delicious, even when the avocados I purchased for said salads were found to be too green to even cut open. And the veggie soup for dinner was awesome!

It was those few hours before bed on day two that my body went crazy.

After all day feeding my body a virtual IV drip of awesome, I fell headlong into a bag of marshmallows. Same on day three, followed by some cornbread (hey, it’s the last day, I’m done, right?) and a handful of candy corn. That carb/sugar addiction is some serious shiz.

With my cheats, I fully expected to not get a lot of benefit from the whole experience. Guilt-tripper health nuts will chastise you and say, “you might as well not have done the cleanse at all.” But, despite all my shortcomings, I am sitting here on day four awake and clear-headed when I’m usually shuffling back to bed for a nap. I lost some weight and I feel…well…clean. Proof enough for me.

2. Any step in the right direction is a good step.

Corollary: Your brain, not your stomach, is your biggest challenge.

I could have decided I was going to lose 20 pounds by spring, mapping out an elaborate diet and exercise plan. Nothing wrong with that. Except I won’t do it. I did a tiny, three-day baby step, and I didn’t even complete it properly. But I did something.

I got enough benefit to take a few more little steps, not even as drastic as those I did for three days, but still, something. Cut down on sugar (it tastes kinda gross now, anyway). Keep juicing, at least a few times a week. Cut way back on meat and eat more fresh vegetables.

As my brain was screaming for nighttime carbs, I became more aware of the brain-stomach connection. My hunger wasn’t from my stomach, it was from a chemical reaction in my brain…literally an addiction. Even when I failed to control it, I took a tiny step to recognize it for what it is. And if you ever watched G.I. Joe, you know that knowing is half the battle.

3. Juicing is pretty awesome.

If you’ve never tried it, I can highly recommend it.

I really like my refurb Breville Juice Fountain.

Don’t freak out when you see juicing evangelists like Joe Cross (of Fat, Sick and Nearly Dead, a great documentary you should totally watch) going all-juice for 30 days or more at a time. Just try one glass, mostly veggies. I like Joe’s Mean Green recipe. Then go from there.

To rehash an earlier phrase, it’s like an IV of nutrients going right into your body, immediately ready for use. I was coming from a pretty rough place last week, with fatigue and brain fog. Before I was even done with the first glass, I could feel stuff happening, like an energy surge. You know, like you hope that third cup of coffee will do but doesn’t. Oh…and other things.

Ahem. Juicing will make you go.to.the.bathroom. With a quickness. Don’t be alarmed if you don’t even finish the glass first. It’s all good. Your body needs to get rid of, well, stuff. My husband joked that men would probably take pictures and share stories. It’s pretty remarkable, really.

So, as with most things in my life, I didn’t do the cleanse perfectly, but at least I did something. And that may be the biggest lesson learned of all.

Food, Comfort and Peace

April 18, 2012 by arfoodie Leave a Comment

So, my dad is gone.

Early in the morning hours of April 7, the day before Easter, he quietly left this world from the beautiful Hospice Home Care inpatient facility in Little Rock.

I have recently attempted not to dump personal information on this blog too much. But I think it applies, since much of the story has involved food and the way it affects every element of our lives. As mentioned in my earlier post, we tried to use food as a healing agent. However, sometimes it’s just time to let go, and that’s what we had to do.

Then, it was time for my mom and I to heal. Rather, it was time to start the healing process, which will likely take some time. Food will play a role here, too.

Southern Baptist funeral weeks are a flurry of food, as I’m sure they are for just about anyone in the South and beyond. It’s a purposeful hijacking of Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs, taking care of the mourners’ basic requirements so they can focus on other things, or nothing at all, for a little while. To allow time to heal.

And in my personal case, having to be gluten-free now, all my friends who sent food were wonderful about sending things that were not only allowed, but nourishing and comforting. One friend, although unfamiliar with gluten-free pastas, found some and made me a wonderful macaroni salad, with fresh peas and cherry tomatoes. (What is it about carbs that are so comforting?)

Another friend heeded my unashamed Facebook request for hot milk cakes from Dempsey Bakery. This gave me both a breakfast option for a few days as well as a suitable dessert to enjoy while the rest of the family ate coconut cakes, chocolate cakes and poundcakes that were delivered to my mom’s house.

Our refrigerators have been mounded over with delicious sandwich meat and cheese; lovingly constructed casseroles; tangy, bacon-laden barbecue beans; perfectly seasoned green beans; intricate salads with avocado and veggies and the like.

For a few days, we were able to focus on our family while feasting together and talking, sharing memories. Going through paperwork. Moving on to the next stage of life, whatever that is.

Before you ask, we really are okay, or at least we will be. Without imposing our beliefs on you (well, maybe just a little…), Daddy is okay, too. In fact, he’s awesome. And we’ll get to hang out with him again someday, over a big banquet.

I’ll bet the casseroles there are incredible.

P.S. I’m still moving forward with the Food Blogger Bake Sale on April 28, benefiting Share Our Strength. That happens to be my dad’s birthday. Help me honor the day by raising a bunch of money to help those who don’t have the comfort of enough food to eat. Details coming soon.

Feeding with Love

March 31, 2012 by arfoodie Leave a Comment

I’ve been unavoidably delayed. Forgive me.

Without going into all the details, my dad has been in the hospital for more than three weeks. For much of this time, he hasn’t been able to eat. Even before that happened, he refused the funky creamed soups and broths coming from the hospital kitchen. (This is more due to his pickiness than the quality of the product, but still.)

One day, under threat of intravenous feeding, my mom and I ran to her house to make a broth, one he would willingly drink. She told me about doing the same for my Papa (my dad’s dad) years ago after he had a heart attack. She swears that turnip water brought him from the brink. After reading as much as I have about Asian food-based healing, I don’t doubt it.

Mom and I split up from the hospital, and I ran by my house for the aforementioned Asian food healing books. Turnips, as it turned out, were ranked highly for their restorative properties. So were celery, carrots, kale, garlic and artichoke leaves. Back at my parents’ house, they all went in the pot.

I’d like to report that Daddy drank the broth and was miraculously cured, but I can’t. He did drink a bit, not much. They did start him on intravenous feeding. He’s still on it.

But this story is actually about cooking that broth, standing over it that day in my parents’ kitchen, the one I grew up with. The electric burners I’ve practically forgotten how to use. The now-unfamiliar cookware, which I think she got at Safeway years ago. Searching for utensils, strainers, bowls.

Mom’s foot was swelling, so I offered to take over the food while she propped it up. It was my chance, as it turns out, to pour every ounce of love I could into that pot. My family is very unemotional and shy. (My first one, that is; my husband, kids and I gush to each other on a daily basis.) This was my chance to say “I love you.”

While at the hospital, Daddy has been way down, to the point we didn’t know what was going to happen, and he’s just now inching his way back up. The goal is to return to normal “feeding” — such a cold, clinical term for such a warm, healing process.

I’ll probably never make a broth again without remembering this one. And I may never think of food the same way, either.

Remember to cook with love, y’all.