Farewell to Favorite Foods

This past Thursday I got some unfortunate news - I found out that I’m allergic to a bunch of things, including eggs, gluten, and peanuts, and reconfirming dairy. I didn’t change what I ate for a couple of days, though, because yesterday I went to Harvest on the Harbor and was determined to enjoy the food without worry. (See my previous posts from 2011 and 2009 for descriptions of this amazing foodie event.)

But I was already thinking ahead to what life will be like moving forward as I avoid these things, and I realize I’m feeling something like grief as I bid farewell to some favorite foods.

Cleaning out my cupboards and fridge, I know breakfast will have to change radically, as I get rid of Cream of Wheat, Shredded Wheat, English muffins with their lovely nooks and crannies, and eggs (so much for scrambled or hard-boiled eggs, or frittatas or omelets). Snacks, too, will change, as I pull out crackers and peanut butter, although at least I can get gluten-free crackers and almond butter.

Still, I’m not terribly worried about being home and dealing with these things, since I already cook and bake a lot and have been experimenting with gluten-free and egg-free for other reasons. What’s harder is venturing out into the world.

Yesterday at Harvest on the Harbor, every time I ate something I’m allergic to, I couldn’t help feeling a pang, knowing this might be the last time: pizza, gelato, grilled cheese, chocolate eggnog (pretty awesome, I have to say), pretzels, artisan bread, and probably some things I wasn’t even thinking about.

Even worse was food planning and shopping. Flipping through my books for good recipes, I kept finding things that had eggs, or ginger, or some form of gluten (bread, wheatberries, couscous, spelt, bulgur, barley). At Rosemont Market and Bakery, I realized that I won’t be able to buy any more of their awesome bread, just inhale the wafting scent. 

Stranger, though, is realizing that I’m feeling regretful for foods that I haven’t eaten in years and don’t even truly want. The simple fact that they’re forbidden calls up an odd yearning, more nostalgia than reality. For instance, seeing all the Halloween candy, I suddenly think about not having Reese Peanut Butter cups, or peanut M&M’s, or Snickers. I smile sadly at pretzels and Wheat Thins and animal crackers and Cheerios. 

I wonder if I’ll crave those things more as I cut them out, if I’ll feel compelled to try them simply because I can’t have them, not because I want them. I’d like to think not, especially since I’m sure I’ll find other foods and recipes I can eat. 

But the holidays will be hard, since I may well do baking with gluten for other people while letting them know not to give me anything having that or eggs. Cookie swaps will only be possible with those willing to get creative with their baking, and holiday parties (or pretty much any social gathering) will be tough. I had gotten in the habit of taking my family out to high-end restaurants for dinner as their gift, but that will probably go by the wayside, and eating out in general will be tricky.

I suppose in some ways that’s what I’m grieving more than anything - the inability to partake in some of these foods with others. It’s different, somehow, when it’s by necessity rather than choice.

On the up side, I remind myself that none of these allergies are life-threatening, and if I very occasionally have a small amount of food on this list, it’s not the end of the world. And since I might be able to eat some of them again if I avoid them long enough, perhaps I shouldn’t think of it as farewell, but instead bid au revoir to these favorite foods, and hope for the best.

What's Gained by Dieting?

Diets always make me think about losing. Pounds and inches, of course - or at least, that’s the hope - but also freedom and flexibility in meals, the ability to see food as something more than a collection of nutrients and calories or points, and unselfconscious joy in eating.

But surely to balance the scales, losing so much must mean a gain somewhere, right? Isn’t that, after all, the point of dieting, to lose pounds so we can gain something else?

Except I’m not sure everyone thinks that part through. Some group programs may ask what your goal is, or at least Weight Watchers did when I was part of it decades ago. Responses ranged anywhere from being comfortable in a bathing suit, to fitting into old clothes, to climbing stairs more easily. My own answer then and ever after when trying to lose weight was to climb Mt. Katahdin.

Yet we never went deeper than that. What do these goals gain you? What is the core of what you’re seeking that made you want to try a diet?

For those wanting to be comfortable in a bathing suit, perhaps the gain is better body image, or self-confidence, or simply drawing appreciative looks.

If you want to fit into old clothes, perhaps you seek to gain a feeling of youth and vigor, of how you felt when you were younger. Maybe you want a more carefree life, or a greater sense of possibility.

When climbing stairs, maybe you want to gain trust in your body, feeling strong and capable and assured.

In my case, although I didn’t know it when I was 12 (or at least didn’t admit it to myself), I didn’t want to climb Katahdin simply for love of the mountain. I wanted to gain my parents’ approval and pride.

The problem is, if we don’t understand these deeper reasons, they become secondary, and we focus only on all the restrictions and rules of the diet, not the reason for it. We also fail to recognize that perhaps if we addressed those true reasons and tried to make those positive gains first, the diet might become irrelevant.

Consider. If you focused on having a positive body image and self-confidence, you will present yourself differently and others might find you attractive regardless of how you look in a bathing suit. Or if you want to be more like your younger self, if you act in a more youthful and energetic way, you might become so. If you want to trust your body and feel capable, acknowledge what strengths and abilities you do have and foster those; more could follow. And if you want someone’s approval, consider talking to them about it. You may find you already have it.

And if you gain all these wonderful things, it’s very possible that what you eat may change naturally, without rules or counting or imposed limitations, as you feel better about yourself and what you can do. 

So if you’re considering a diet, perhaps instead of asking what you want to lose, ask what you want to gain.

Public Comments

Being extremely overweight isn’t something you can hide. At best you can minimize it, wearing clothes with slimming designs and colors, and having good posture. Perhaps this constant visibility is why strangers seem to believe it’s okay to publicly comment on weight.

This happens all too frequently. Much of the time we don’t hear about it, but a couple of recent news stories highlighted this fact. The first was about Jennifer Livingston, an overweight news anchor. She received an e-mail from a man who said that as a public figure and therefore role model, it was Livingston’s responsibility to rethink her weight and promote a healthier image. 

Another was more local, about a Maine woman named Amanda Tyson who got many hurtful comments about her weight when she was in middle school. Only recently has she been able to lose weight and gain the confidence to speak out about the bullying she received. But even now, 70 pounds lighter, when she posted a picture of herself in a bikini, she got some negative responses, including some suggesting that she kill herself.

I wish I could be surprised by this, that these sorts of incidents are rare and unusual. Unfortunately, this is simply not the case. I certainly suffered my share of insults and bullying in high school because of my weight, and I know many others do as well. Even when comments aren’t not as vitriolic, such as when a woman said something to me about being “such a big girl”, or when someone offers unsolicited advice on weight loss, it’s insulting and off-putting and usually hurtful.

In thinking about this, I remember Mary Pipher’s comment in Reviving Ophelia that the are obese are social lepers. And she’s right - being overweight is generally considered a moral failing, indicating some deficiency. I suspect that is why others think it’s okay to express their negative reactions so publicly and intensely.

Except it’s not okay. Being overweight has enough challenges and usually brings its own share of self-doubt and lack of confidence; hearing such reactions adds exponentially to that. 

It’s also challenging to know how to respond. While it might be tempting to say something equally harsh and negative, I like the approach Livingston and Tyson suggest: to remember that those making such comments are often hurting themselves, perhaps severely, and that the best response is kindness and compassion. 

Note: I wrote a Letter to the Editor regarding the story about Tyson, which can be found here, the fourth story down.

Reasons I Don't Like to Overeat

I don’t like to overeat, for a few reasons. The problem is that I don’t always remember what the reasons are, at least not in time to prevent overeating, especially since it’s not something I do often. This past week was a prime example, when I overate for a couple of days in row, something I almost never do and which resulted in a painful reminder of why I prefer to avoid this.

It happened when I attended a work conference. The first day was mostly fine because it was pre-conference, just prep, so we didn’t have quite as much food around. But that evening I went out to dinner at a great Mexican restaurant called El Vez (http://www.elvezrestaurant.com/), and the food was so good I ended up eating more than I needed: guacamole and chips; mahi-mahi tacos; and splitting two desserts with a co-worker, the El Vez (flourless chocolate cake, peanut custard with caramelized bananas, chocolate sauce, peanut butter ice cream), and the Tres Leches cake.

El Vez dessert

That night I slept terribly. This is the first reason I don’t like to overeat. I got snatches of sleep, but mostly my body was wide awake with energy from all that food, bad enough that eventually I got up around 2 a.m. and started reviewing my presentations just to give myself something to do.

As you might imagine, that meant Tuesday didn’t start off that well. I was quite tired, and in one of those annoying twists, I was hungrier than usual. It’s as if the one large meal stretched my stomach, making me feel like I needed even more to fill it, rather than less as one might expect. Second reason I dislike overeating.

By late afternoon, though, I was feeling okay, and not very hungry when we first went to the dinner event. That was just as well, because for the first hour, all we got were itty bitty appetizers: tuna sushi on a tiny cracker; fig spread on bruschetta; lovely little cups of butternut squash soup; small skewers of chicken satay. We didn’t sit down until a little after 7:30, and we didn’t start getting food until around 8, with our main courses arriving at 8:40 and dessert a little after 9.

The problem was, at that point I was starving and devoured everything. Even worse, what I had wasn’t enough to quiet my demanding stomach, so when I got back to my room I had some trail mix and an apple. Of course by the time I finished that, I was overfull. Any guess what that meant? Yep - another horrible night, this time up between 2 and 4 a.m.

By Wednesday this was starting to catch up with me, but I couldn’t focus on it because I had to get through four hours of presenting before the conference ended. I tried to eat more lightly, and at least when I got home around 11 p.m. I didn’t feel as ridiculously stuffed as I had before, but I still didn’t sleep well.

Thursday, though, was when the final reason I dislike overeating came home to me. I felt physically awful. I was sluggish, unable to focus, and felt battered somehow, as if I’d had a bad fall. My body ached, my stomach was queasy and uncomfortable, a headache knocked insistently at the back of my head, and I was generally miserable. It wasn’t until Friday afternoon that I felt mostly back to normal.

The only good thing is that I don’t feel guilty anymore for such things. I do wish that I’d remembered these reasons beforehand, which perhaps would have helped me make a few better choices. I can only hope that writing this will help for any such future events, so that next time I can come home and not have to spend a day or more recovering from too much food.