From halahala to challah . . . and more challah!

challah

The photo doesn’t do it justice, but it felt like the challah was giving me a big hug. If that’s not comfort food, I don’t know what is.

A work drain triggered my needing some emotional nourishment today. I found it in a loop of self-practice that began with meditation and the opening invocation of the ashtanga practice and continued with comfort food in the form of a delicious vegetarian sandwich made with out of this world challah bread. I couldn’t help but think of this nourishing loop as exhaling halahala and inhaling . . . challah! :-) (Sorry, I really couldn’t resist — in the same exact way I couldn’t resist this sandwich.)

On the restorative front, it helped that I had the chance to eat dinner outside, with the sun warming my skin — something we do not take for granted here in Michigan, because you never know when spring and summer may mean overcast, chilly (for me, anyway) days. My husband and I had never eaten at Marie Catrib’s of Grand Rapids, but I had heard rave reviews from friends.

The restaurant has a focus on local farms, and it offers plenty of vegan and vegetarian fare. Why the menu was particularly exciting to me now is that fresh off of plowing through Salt Sugar Fat and The Omnivore’s Dilemma, I am now listening to the audiobook of — thanks to the suggestion of Omiya — Jonthan Safran Foer’s Eating Animals.

This is the book description:

Like many others, Jonathan Safran Foer spent his teenage and college years oscillating between omnivore and vegetarian. But on the brink of fatherhood—facing the prospect of having to make dietary choices on a child’s behalf—his casual questioning took on an urgency. This quest ultimately required him to visit factory farms in the middle of the night, dissect the emotional ingredients of meals from his childhood, and probe some of his most primal instincts about right and wrong.

This book is what he found. Brilliantly synthesizing philosophy, literature, science, memoir, and his own detective work, Eating Animals explores the many stories we use to justify our eating habits—folklore and pop culture, family traditions and national myth, apparent facts and inherent fictions—and how such tales can lull us into a brutal forgetting. (Here’s an excerpt of this 2010 2009 book.)

It’s a perfect time for me to be reading this book. Nourishment — of all kinds — is what I’m thinking about most these days, and while it has been nourishing to dive deeply into the stories these books have to tell, there can be a bit of what I think of as shitty food fatigue. Even more than with The Omnivore’s Dilemma, I find myself, as I get deeper into this book, questioning why I ate such crap for so long — and what exactly got me to quit. I recently hashed out my meat thoughts, but perhaps what I have thinking about even more of late is the vibration of the food — both meat and dead and denatured processed food — I ate all those years and the effect it was having on me.

To be a bit more concise than I was in the last blog post, perhaps what ultimately got me to stop desiring meat in particular was that the combination of the six-day-a-week ashtanga practice, the daily meditation practice, and the Ayurveda program got me quiet enough and receptive enough to tune in to the vibration of the meat and the eggs I was eating. The scale of the animal suffering experienced in factory farms is so immense that I simply don’t believe the final products that arrive on our plates can escape it. The vibrations have to transfer on some level, right? But it’s easy to build a protective wall of avoidance and denial to block that kind of information from seeping in. (As I’ve said, I think my days of enthusiastically eating seafood are numbered too, but there are a few reasons I’m sticking with it for the moment.)

Never yuck someone else’s yum (yucking your own is OK though)

Eat Taste Heal reminds its reads of the vegetarian etiquette: “Never yuck someone else’s yum!” I’m not at all trying to do that; this is about coming to terms with my decades-long lack of mindfulness about what I’ve put into my body. I think it’s perfectly legit to yuck on my own past yums, and I’ve been finding that deconstructive process informative and even a bit cathartic. The flip side of this deconstruction — and the shitty food fatigue that can accompany it — is the constructive process of cooking in my own kitchen and seeking out establishments that are passionate about having guiding principles (farm to table/vegetarian-friendly/gluten-free/etc.) that look beyond the easy formulation of salt, sugar and fat to amp up a diner’s dish — not to mention the restaurant’s bottom line.

So when I have a wild rice and lentil burger patty on the most delicious piece of challah I can ever remember having, it’s about a lot more than ingesting fuel for my body or lighting up my taste buds. It’s about supporting an overall practice of nourishment.

© YogaRose.net and Rose Tantraphol, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to YogaRose.net with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

 

A time to digest

Eat Taste Heal

These days, it feels like I’m ingesting more information about food than I seem to be ingesting food itself — which is a good trend for me, considering that portion control had been a major challenge for quite some time. Thanks to the genius design of ashtanga’s six-day-a-week practice (I mean, is there anything that maintaining this practice can’t help with?) and thanks to discovering the wisdom of Ayurveda, I finally feel like I’m eating what my body signals is enough food, rather than what my emotions felt was enough food — two very different scales, for sure.

At the same time, I’m awash in outstanding books on Ayurvedic cooking and on journalistic examinations into America’s sick and broken food system:

  • During a recent weekend getaway to celebrate our first anniversary, my husband and I picked up a classic to add to my growing collection of Ayurveda books — Ayurvedic Cooking for Self-Healing by Usha Lad & Dr. Vasant Lad.
  • For my birthday, my sister Alisa bought me Eat Taste Heal: An Ayurvedic Cookbook for Modern Livinga gorgeous and brilliant execution of a cookbook that offers up recipes and then notes recommended modifications for people of different doshas. The recipe for roasted leek and fennel bisque, for instance, says that pitta-types should omit the walnuts, and that kapha-types should substitute eggplant for fennel and soy milk for cream.
  • I finished Michael Moss’s Salt Sugar Fat: How the Food Giants Hooked Us a couple months ago, and now I’ve moved on to the audiobook of The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals by Michael Pollan, the national bestseller published back in 2006 that I’ve long been interested in but somehow never got around to read.

Dear journalist: What should I eat?

I love that from the get-go, Pollan writes that “Industrial food is food for which you need an investigative journalist to tell you where it came from.”

That reminds me that one of my favorite non-fiction books that I read in my 20s was Fast Food Nation. Yet somehow, reading that book wasn’t enough to spur any lasting dietary changes at the time. I mean, yes, OK, I had tried, in my 20s, to change my eating habits:

  • I tried to avoid some of the worst menu items at fast-food places, but I would still eat at fast-food joints from time to time (and I still craved the saltiness of McDonald’s french fries, even though Fast Food Nation’s accounts of how they are made should have disabused me of that).
  • I had a terrible experience at a Chinese restaurant in college and gave up pork on the spot (the bad experience was a plate of sweet and sour pork, and the pork tasted too . . . fleshy. It felt like an unhappy animal had died unhappily and had been prepared by an unhappy restaurant worker).
  • After college, I gave up poultry because I had read about the horrific conditions on poultry farms.
  • And eventually, I gave up red meat because I thought I should, for health reasons. (I always kept eating seafood.)

I made managed to make it a few years of not eating pork, poultry or red meat. But eventually, as my energy levels continued to be compromised and as my hair continued to thin — clumps would fall out whenever I washed my hair — I decided I needed to return to eating meat. My body was telling me that I was missing something crucial. I had been a lazy pescatarian, so I didn’t do any research about what I should do to balance out my diet. And one day, while driving, I had a vision of a hamburger. I figured my body was trying in a big way to signal to me that I needed to change something, so I started eating meat again, and I came back with a vengeance — even venturing, when offered, to try pate and veal. (I regret both choices to this day.)

This time, it’s different.

Another interesting thing happened — again, while driving — a few months ago. It was still the dark of winter, and I was headed one early morning to the yoga shala.

I ran over a rabbit.

He jetted out from the side of the highway and there wasn’t much I could do. But I felt terrible. Just simply awful. Sick to my stomach. I told myself that if I had been more alert, I could have avoided him somehow.

For whatever reason, I gave up meat that day. It’s not like I have ever eaten rabbit and felt pangs of guilt. But there was something so visceral about running over this little creature that connected me to the experience of eating meat that I decided it was finally time to give up eating those forms of flesh. (I haven’t been able to eat poultry for quite some time, and I barely ate pork and red meat anyway, but I pledged to go meat-free entirely that day.) I’m content to continue eating seafood at the moment — for now, my body is telling me that all that protein and those omega-3s are serving me well — but I could easily see there coming a day when I give that up as well.

So I am back to where I was some 15 years ago, once again going the pescatarian route. This time, however, I have a good feeling about these habits sticking. It’s not that I’m more informed, necessarily — even though I am. It’s that I have a consistent ashtanga and meditation practice — along with my Ayurveda program — to ground me, and to connect me to my intuition about what’s beneficial and what’s not. I think part of what didn’t allow my first go-around, in my 20s, to be successful was that I didn’t have any practices that kept me in tune with my intuition. Working the long hours that I did, living with the stress that I lived with both at work and at home, I kept drifting farther and farther from my sense of self. I was able to build up a thick coating of justifications for bad habits (“This microwaveable meal isn’t all that bad for me!” “This vending machine snack will be exactly what I need to get through until I get home” and so on). It’s a vicious cycle, and the thicker that coating, the harder it is to return to a state of mindful living.

I’m so very grateful to be where I am at now. While I still have a lot of work to do, I know it’s work in the right direction. I didn’t blog much about the spring Ayurvedic cleanse that I went through in April (I simply didn’t have the time), but the long and the short of it is that I felt digestive bliss for the first time during that cleanse.

By digestive bliss, I mean that I felt nothing. I didn’t feel discomfort after meals. My old friend acid reflux stayed at bay. In our asana practice, we know about sthira sukham asanam — about poses feeling steady and comfortable. For the first time, I think, I felt that way about my digestive system. The feeling of not feeling an out-of-balanced digestive system was refreshing — and surprising. That that state was a possibility was so deeply inspiring that I think it will help serve as a compass for times down the road when I will want to be tempted by less-than-advisable choices on the consumption front.


The Smart Fitter blog, which I’m a fan of, today posted on Facebook a piece about Michael Pollan in which he says, “Cooking is a political act.” The deeper I get into all this food stuff, the more I have to agree. (I wonder if it’s possible that that’s one many of the reasons why, over the past few months, I’ve been enjoying cooking at home exponentially more than I ever have in the past? 😉 )

© YogaRose.net and Rose Tantraphol, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to YogaRose.net with appropriate and specific direction to the original content

Put those potato chips down! + Launch of nation’s first comprehensive healthy food access portal

Healthy Food Access Portal

I should be packing, but instead, I’m checking out the country’s first comprehensive healthy food access portal — which launched today — while listening to the Diane Rehm Show that aired this morning. This episode — “How Processed Food Took Over The American Diet” — is centered around the fact that processed foods account for roughly 70 percent of our nation’s calories. Is there meaningful difference between “processed” food and “highly processed” food? Are we paying too high a price for convenience? The guests of the show:

Good stuff (the conversation, not the highly processed food discussed in the show).

So you have some context, if you plan on listening to this engaging conversation, the Center for Consumer Freedom is funded by the food industry and this is how the organization describes itself:

Founded in 1996, the Center for Consumer Freedom is a nonprofit organization devoted to promoting personal responsibility and protecting consumer choices. We believe that the consumer is King. And Queen.

A growing cabal of activists has meddled in Americans’ lives in recent years. They include self-anointed “food police,” health campaigners, trial lawyers, personal-finance do-gooders, animal-rights misanthropes, and meddling bureaucrats.

Bloomberg portrayed as a meddling nannyA growing cabal! Of damn activists! When New York City Mayor Mike Bloomberg first proposed banning super-sized sodas, it was the Center for Consumer Freedom that ran an ad portraying Bloomberg as a meddling nanny.

 


On a more refreshing note, the Healthy Food Access Portal — which my sister Sedora conducted some research for — has launched. About this initiative:

In 2009, PolicyLinkThe Food Trust, and The Reinvestment Fund began a campaign, with partners and stakeholders from across the country, to create a comprehensive federal response to address the limited and inequitable access to healthy foods in low-income communities in both rural and urban America. The launch of the federal Healthy Food Financing Initiative (HFFI) and the state and local efforts currently underway are already beginning to make a difference and improve fresh food access in underserved communities across the country.

With funding from the Robert Wood Johnson Foundation, the three organizations are continuing to collaborate and have created this web information portal to maximize the impact of the new opportunities and better support communities seeking to launch healthy food retail projects across the country. This website highlights those efforts and relevant resources to serve the community members and policymakers working to improve access to healthy food retail.

So, put down those potato chips — it’s not easy, as this potato chip addict found — and dive into this new portal already.

© YogaRose.net and Rose Tantraphol, 2013. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given to YogaRose.net with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.