Health

Scanning the titles of recent blog posts from Bill Marler's terrific, food-safety-focused Marler Blog gives us just a glimpse of what lurks below the surface:

July 5 - Unnamed Egyptian Fenugreek Seed Grower Responsible for 4,200 Illnesses and 50 Deaths

July 6 - Four French, including baby in a coma, linked to E. coli O157:H7 Outbreak in Lilie

I’ll just put it out there to start with: minus the cabbage broth cayenne pepper (or the “please-kill-me-now?”) diet, I have given most food-life styles a fair shot. I did vegetarian for about four years. Did raw for awhile (I loved it, my stomach did not), and did every sort of variation of caveman diets, of carb/protein/fat ratios and of cooked/uncooked/baked/boiled/parched plans that are out there.  Some have made me feel better, some worse, some wiped off the pounds and some put them right back on, and some were a heck of a lot more enjoyable than others. I don’t know what it is, but I’ve got a “thing” for eating plans. Like, it’s too confusing and certainly altogether too overwhelming out there when the whole wide world of food is fair game.

As we welcome summer into our lives with open arms, it's also a time to welcome wonderful, crisp and light foods into our bellies. Minnesota has so many delicious options to choose from. We are also a Minne-gold mine when it comes to hummus. Our farmer's markets, co-ops and gardens are full of tasty options for your own homemade hummus. I was shocked at how easy it is to make at home, and ever since that day, I have been hooked on the stuff. It was not time consuming or difficult and you can create enough variations to keep this go-to food fresh and fun for your palette.

When I think of red carpet events, I know one thing for sure: I'm not invited. So imagine my surprise when I discovered a press release in my inbox inviting me to an event with the aforementioned floor covering. I read further and it began to make sense. Spoof, satire, deadly serious. I could not resist.

I’m on a very strict meal plan.

I’ve been eating grass-fed ground beef, steak skewers, pecan-crusted chicken, pork and fish. I’ve been eating eggs, sausage, yams, deviled eggs, cabbage slaw and curry. I’ve been eating spice-rubbed chicken, salmon salad, and pear salad with balsamic vinegar. I’ve been eating shrimp with red onion, garlic, green bell peppers, salsa verde and chili powder -- served with romaine lettuce leaves, spinach, mango and lime. My fridge is filled to the brim with fresh, local, and organic fruit and vegetables of all colors, and my freezer is full of grass-fed beef, turkey, lamb, and chicken. I haven’t been scrimping on fat, either. I cook my nutrient-dense meals with coconut oil and olive oil, and eat plenty of avocados and macadamia nuts and even a little bit of almond butter.

What’s missing from this list? Added sugar. Alcohol. Milk. Cheese. Grains. Legumes. I’ve decided to spend 30 days eating a strict Paleo diet.

As the mother of two small children (age 2 ½ and 6 months), I try my best to make healthy eating choices every day. I make my own baby food (lots easier than it sounds and very cost-effective), use as little pre-packaged/processed foods to make meals as I can, and avoid sugar and junk food whenever possible. That being said, I will admit that I used to roll my eyes at the word organic. I looked at the prices and didn’t really understand why I was paying sometimes more than twice the price for the “same” foods.

A long time ago, I had a friend who seriously thought carrot cake was good for you because it had, as one of its ingredients, carrots.

And by “a long time ago,” I mean 2002. And by “a friend,” I mean myself.

I don’t know about you, but until recently, the words “lunch lady” conjured less than pleasant memories of crabby women in hairnets glopping mystery meat and mashed potatoes onto plastic trays with ice cream scoops. Had I taken a moment to consider their point of view, I suppose I might have realized how annoying it would be to dish out food, day after day, to disrespectful kids yelling “ewwww, gross!” I’m ashamed to admit that this level of empathy was beyond me in my elementary school years. I was too busy yelling “ewwww, gross!”

Imagine, for a moment, that you're five years old. After a busy morning in Kindergarten, you notice that your stomach is growling. It's time for lunch. Unless you brought food from home, you'll be eating what's served in your school's cafeteria. You get in line and grab a tray. You're barely tall enough to see the food behind the counter, and your teacher isn't there to help because she's having her lunch elsewhere. So when the lady wearing the plastic gloves asks you what you want to eat, you're not sure what to say. Then you might notice something familiar -- maybe a hot dog, spaghetti, or some chicken nuggets -- so you point to it and watch as it's placed on your tray.

I don’t think I’d ever so much as looked at a beet until after college, when I had houseguests who were passing through town. They had learned how to make borscht while serving as missionaries in Russia, and I came home from a long day at work to a simmering pot of the root soup that they’d thoughtfully prepared. I’ll admit that I was a bit nervous at first, but was relieved to find it both delicious and nourishing.