What does the Jesus Year hold for you, and what do you make of this idea generally, and in terms of your own lives?

For me, I’m interested in finding larger struggles beyond myself, and maybe that’s ultimately what one can do that lives up to, in part, the example of Jesus. And yet. Here, this year, I’ve been given everything–a good life, companionship, good work, and even a more flexible schedule so that I can teach this fall (something I’ve wanted for a long time) and so that I can write (something I’ve always wanted). Why does this still seem like it falls short? Why are my struggles still primarily with myself? Is this part of the experience of being 33, as a sort of crossroads year? A year in which I know many of my peers are far more successful in terms of what the culture says is successful? Why is it that I still can’t eat right, exercise right, balance my life? Maybe the Jesus Year is the year we are supposed to compare ourselves to Jesus, yes, but really what we do is compare ourselves to everyone else?

But more generally, does this stage of life have any common or universal traits among the culture at large? Are most people already married? already married and divorced? having children? getting higher promotions? running for office? changing jobs? moving? taking up some cause?

I thought you would all be interested in this, seeing as, for a little while longer, at least, we’re all 33, our high school and college classmates are, most of them, 33, and I suspect several of our friends, cousins, and others around us are 33. And we haven’t had a larger question posed lately, so it seems like a good time. Any thoughts?

Okay, I just got a call from the allergy clinic a couple of days ago.  I’ve been given the all-clear for my cashew and pistachio allergies!  They said that no observable allergies showed up in a blood test I took a few days previous.  So, I can begin to reintroduce the pistachios and cashews back into my diet slowly.  I wasn’t aware that this happened, but they seemed confident I was fine to eat them again.  I wonder if I just ate too many nuts over the holidays a couple of years ago. 

All I’ll say is, it’s nice not to have a potentially life-threatening allergy again.

This man can help.

[youtube]http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PvbL_5rH1QQ[/youtube]

 

I read this (below) at the end of an article, “Unhappy Meals,” in The New York Times Magazine, January 28, 2007. It is by Michael Pollan, whose most recent book, The Omnivore’s Dilemma, was chosen by the editors of The New York Times Book Review as one of the 10 best books of 2006.

This is just the very end of a much longer piece, but these are worth sharing and considering. Two things that struck me, as far as HM discussions have gone:

1. Peters had mentioned wanting to go back to caveman ways in terms of diet and exercise, etc. J. E. disagreed with that, saying we should take advantage of what we know now–because we don’t live (thankfully) like cavemen anymore. Pollan suggests eating foods that our great-great grandmothers would recognize as food. That seems an interesting rule of thumb. I have to admit, in my own case, my great-great grandmother would not recognize a vegetarian diet for the most part, especially the soy products that I eat fairly frequently now.

2. Ned had brought up not wanting to go to the farmer’s market or local food co-op because it’s too expensive. Fair enough: it is more expensive. Pollan responds interestingly, I think, on that point below, and makes the case that it’s worth the extra cost. Pay more; eat less. Unfortunately, for myself, I’m probably paying more and eating more. And that’s certainly the case when we go out to eat, rather than cook at home.

Some more thoughts on our continuing conversation about food and health. Here’s to all of you, from the very, very cold northlands. We have been below zero degrees for the last four days.

–Shotts

And here’s from the end of Pollan’s article:

To medicalize the diet problem is of course perfectly consistent with nutritionism. So what might a more ecological or cultural approach to the problem recommend? How might we plot our escape from nutritionism and, in turn, from the deleterious effects of the modern diet? In theory nothing could be simpler — stop thinking and eating that way — but this is somewhat harder to do in practice, given the food environment we now inhabit and the loss of sharp cultural tools to guide us through it. Still, I do think escape is possible, to which end I can now revisit — and elaborate on, but just a little — the simple principles of healthy eating I proposed at the beginning of this essay, several thousand words ago. So try these few (flagrantly unscientific) rules of thumb, collected in the course of my nutritional odyssey, and see if they don’t at least point us in the right direction.

1. Eat food. Though in our current state of confusion, this is much easier said than done. So try this: Don’t eat anything your great-great-grandmother wouldn’t recognize as food. (Sorry, but at this point Moms are as confused as the rest of us, which is why we have to go back a couple of generations, to a time before the advent of modern food products.) There are a great many foodlike items in the supermarket your ancestors wouldn’t recognize as food (Go-Gurt? Breakfast-cereal bars? Nondairy creamer?); stay away from these.

2. Avoid even those food products that come bearing health claims. They’re apt to be heavily processed, and the claims are often dubious at best. Don’t forget that margarine, one of the first industrial foods to claim that it was more healthful than the traditional food it replaced, turned out to give people heart attacks. When Kellogg’s can boast about its Healthy Heart Strawberry Vanilla cereal bars, health claims have become hopelessly compromised. (The American Heart Association charges food makers for their endorsement.) Don’t take the silence of the yams as a sign that they have nothing valuable to say about health.

3. Especially avoid food products containing ingredients that are a) unfamiliar, b) unpronounceable c) more than five in number — or that contain high-fructose corn syrup.None of these characteristics are necessarily harmful in and of themselves, but all of them are reliable markers for foods that have been highly processed.

4. Get out of the supermarket whenever possible. You won’t find any high-fructose corn syrup at the farmer’s market; you also won’t find food harvested long ago and far away. What you will find are fresh whole foods picked at the peak of nutritional quality. Precisely the kind of food your great-great-grandmother would have recognized as food.

5. Pay more, eat less. The American food system has for a century devoted its energies and policies to increasing quantity and reducing price, not to improving quality. There’s no escaping the fact that better food — measured by taste or nutritional quality (which often correspond) — costs more, because it has been grown or raised less intensively and with more care. Not everyone can afford to eat well in America, which is shameful, but most of us can: Americans spend, on average, less than 10 percent of their income on food, down from 24 percent in 1947, and less than the citizens of any other nation. And those of us who can afford to eat well should. Paying more for food well grown in good soils — whether certified organic or not — will contribute not only to your health (by reducing exposure to pesticides) but also to the health of others who might not themselves be able to afford that sort of food: the people who grow it and the people who live downstream, and downwind, of the farms where it is grown.

“Eat less” is the most unwelcome advice of all, but in fact the scientific case for eating a lot less than we currently do is compelling. “Calorie restriction” has repeatedly been shown to slow aging in animals, and many researchers (including Walter Willett, the Harvard epidemiologist) believe it offers the single strongest link between diet and cancer prevention. Food abundance is a problem, but culture has helped here, too, by promoting the idea of moderation. Once one of the longest-lived people on earth, the Okinawans practiced a principle they called “Hara Hachi Bu”: eat until you are 80 percent full. To make the “eat less” message a bit more palatable, consider that quality may have a bearing on quantity: I don’t know about you, but the better the quality of the food I eat, the less of it I need to feel satisfied. All tomatoes are not created equal.

6. Eat mostly plants, especially leaves. Scientists may disagree on what’s so good about plants — the antioxidants? Fiber? Omega-3s? — but they do agree that they’re probably really good for you and certainly can’t hurt. Also, by eating a plant-based diet, you’ll be consuming far fewer calories, since plant foods (except seeds) are typically less “energy dense” than the other things you might eat. Vegetarians are healthier than carnivores, but near vegetarians (“flexitarians”) are as healthy as vegetarians. Thomas Jefferson was on to something when he advised treating meat more as a flavoring than a food.

7. Eat more like the French. Or the Japanese. Or the Italians. Or the Greeks. Confounding factors aside, people who eat according to the rules of a traditional food culture are generally healthier than we are. Any traditional diet will do: if it weren’t a healthy diet, the people who follow it wouldn’t still be around. True, food cultures are embedded in societies and economies and ecologies, and some of them travel better than others: Inuit not so well as Italian. In borrowing from a food culture, pay attention to how a culture eats, as well as to what it eats. In the case of the French paradox, it may not be the dietary nutrients that keep the French healthy (lots of saturated fat and alcohol?!) so much as the dietary habits: small portions, no seconds or snacking, communal meals — and the serious pleasure taken in eating. (Worrying about diet can’t possibly be good for you.) Let culture be your guide, not science.

8. Cook. And if you can, plant a garden. To take part in the intricate and endlessly interesting processes of providing for our sustenance is the surest way to escape the culture of fast food and the values implicit in it: that food should be cheap and easy; that food is fuel and not communion. The culture of the kitchen, as embodied in those enduring traditions we call cuisines, contains more wisdom about diet and health than you are apt to find in any nutrition journal or journalism. Plus, the food you grow yourself contributes to your health long before you sit down to eat it. So you might want to think about putting down this article now and picking up a spatula or hoe.

9. Eat like an omnivore. Try to add new species, not just new foods, to your diet. The greater the diversity of species you eat, the more likely you are to cover all your nutritional bases. That of course is an argument from nutritionism, but there is a better one, one that takes a broader view of “health.” Biodiversity in the diet means less monoculture in the fields. What does that have to do with your health? Everything. The vast monocultures that now feed us require tremendous amounts of chemical fertilizers and pesticides to keep from collapsing. Diversifying those fields will mean fewer chemicals, healthier soils, healthier plants and animals and, in turn, healthier people. It’s all connected, which is another way of saying that your health isn’t bordered by your body and that what’s good for the soil is probably good for you, too.

“A recent report by the U.N.’s Food and Agriculture Organization reckons that at least eighteen percent of the global-warming effect comes from livestock, more than is caused by all the world’s transportation systems. It has been estimated that forty percent of global grain output is used to feed animals rather than people, and that half of this grain would be sufficient to eliminate world hunger if–and it’s not a small if–the political will could be found to insure equitable distribution.”

That’s just a bit of the article, so I don’t want to say this characterizes the whole piece, which also stresses some of the importance of eating locally, including local, free range meats. So it’s not necessarily a polemic on the virtues of vegetarianism, but I have to say the sentences quoted above stood out significantly, to me. I thought they were worth sharing, as we continue thinking about vegetarianism and our individual and collective global footprint.

Here’s to good eating–

–Shotts

Liz and I have trouble taking the time to feed ourselves properly — especially for supper. But tonight we had one of our favorite meals. This recipe is very good and very simple.

Lentil Soup

16 oz. (2 1/2 cups) dry lentils
8 c. water
4 stalks celery, sliced
5 carrots, sliced
1/4 c. parsley, chopped
2 t. salt
3/4 t. pepper
1 onion, sliced
2 cloves garlic, minced
16 oz can (2 c.) tomatoes, undrained, sliced
3 T. red wine vinegar

Combine lentils, water, celery, carrots, parsley, salt, pepper, onion and garlic. Bring to boil. Reduce heat. Cover; simmer 1 1/2 hours. Stir in tomatoes and vinegar. Cover; simmer an additional 30 minutes.

Stir often in the last hour or so. The lentils like to stick to the bottom. The vinegar and tomatoes make this really good — don’t be tempted to substitue!

We usually have this with red wine, whole wheat tortillas or soda bread. Hope you like it.
Please post some of your staples. Liz and I need new food.

So, looking ahead now, here are a few thoughts and resolutions from me.

In 2007, I expect:

• to see Hilary Clinton, Barack Obama, John McCain, and Rudy Guliani in the spotlight for the Presidential elections of 2008, as they all announce their candidacies. (I’m already surprised to see John Edwards announce his candidacy, and so early.)
• a withdrawl plan from Iraq.
• peacekeeping efforts deployed to Darfur, through a renewed United Nations.
• the biggest seller in books, by far, to be the new and final Harry Potter.
• the biggest movie, in terms of blockbuster status, to be the new Harry Potter movie.
• to be exhausted by Harry Potter by this time next year.
• additional evidence for global warming.
• one of us to announce a child on the way.

Some of my personal resolutions include:

• to eat vegetarian as much as possible, with only occasional fish when eating out.
• to eat less, eat more healthy foods, drink less alcohol, and drink more water daily.
• to exercise at the Y at least 12 times each month.
• to post and comment regularly on the Hollow Men site, including a weekly literary/poetry feature.
• to work to organize our house better.
• to begin more sustained writing.
• to be in better touch with family and friends.

–Shotts

Today’s music selections are a hodge-podge of tracks I’ve been listening to since the last MT post, very suitable in light of the Thansgiving arrangement of foods we ate yesterday (and probably today).  Starting off with the T-Day appropriate ”TV” and ending with an entrance into the Christmas holidays, named “That Was The Worst Christmas Ever!” I hope you enjoy this Thansgiving weekend mix.  I’ve even thrown the 2 new U2 tracks in there — it wouldn’t be Thansgiving without it.

01 Headlights | TV
02 Shiny Toy Guns | “Starts With One”
03 Teddybears | “Punkrocker (Squeakeclean Remix) Mastered”
04 U2 | “The Saints Are Coming”
05 U2 | “Window In The Skies”
06 Dappled Cities Fly | “Within Hours”
07 Sufjan Stevens | “That Was The Worst Christmas Ever!”

We’ve come a long way since Ember’s my friends….

We approach our gathering, and I’m enjoying the anticipation. I look forward to speaking with you all. It’s been a long couple of weeks, one of which was spent on the road in New Jersey for the Dodge Poetry Festival (anyone who has viewed Bill Moyers’ special The Language of Life knows the Dodge Festival) and then in New York for a few days. A week away has paid a toll.

First, some housekeeping:

Toby, are you ready for us to descend upon you? Anything we can do, bring, or otherwise?

J.E. and Ned, are you able to be there?

Peters, I assume you’re set to come?

And second, a few things:

I know I’ve put in for a guys-only kind of weekend. I still stand by that, but certainly don’t mean to put any of you in a strange spot–Toby especially–about this. So whatever the configuration, it will be great. Toby in particular, I know you and Steph have had a hard few weeks by now. I hope this weekend is still good for you, and I hope it’s useful the way friendship can be useful to grief.

I look forward to such candid talk. For one, I would like to hear more about our marriages and the ways each of us makes them work. Who would have thought we’d have an HM gathering and talk about our relationships, let alone our marriages? Considering that most HM gatherings centered often on our solitude, perhaps we’ve come some distance. But I guess that’s the vicinity I’d like to discuss–how do you protect your solitude and still remain a committed and loving partner? Certainly some of that conversation can and should occur here on the site–so please do respond here–but I hope we can talk openly about some of these issues. Speaking for myself, in this last year, I’ve found it very difficult to maintain the things that I used to value and still value–solitude, reading, writing, contemplation, running, certain friendships, and so on. While I realize a new balance is being struck with Jen, and one that most often seems only to improve, it’s still sometimes hard not to feel some loss. Peters brought some of this up awhile ago on an earlier post, and it would be great to continue some of that conversation and to hear from Peters on this, since he and I are at least in a similar time frame in our marriages, but also to hear from Ned, J. E., and Toby, who have had some longer time to live within their marriages.

In any case, this is on my mind, and it’s part of what I look forward to. Of course, I also look forward to tea and coffee, walking through the leaves, and catching up on all our eccentricities. Autumn has been in full force here in Minnesota for the last couple of weeks–truly exhilarating around the Mississippi, the bridges, the lakes, our neighborhood and in the parks. It will be great to come down while Kansas City will be in the throes of its autumn.

See you, in less than three weeks — Jeff

I, too, like J.E. have longed to be a vegetarian at certain points in my life. Gandhi speaks quite frequently about this and it certainly has re-instated that longing. He refers to the fact that red meat makes people more aggressive, which I don’t think has been proven through science but is interesting nonetheless. It has been tested empirically in dogs. Gandhi states that his rigid adherance to this lifestyle often came at quite a cost. Unfortunately, one of the larger hinderances to this choice in lifestyle is its accessibility for me. It takes more time, more planning, and more money to be a vegetarian where I live. I think it might have been easier to do this in NY but here it is quite difficult. We shop at the local Co-op occasionally, but the food is more expensive (sometimes more than I can afford on my tight budget).

This brings me to another point about choices (NPR had a program about this.) Fast food is really over-used by people who have little money and little time, which adds to their plight by giving them health problems in the long run. All of this may make healthy living sound like more of a luxury than a choice, but I think there are some truths here. I think giving up caffeine, as Jeff did, is an example of a very deliberate and healthy choice. I think one of the questions of morality is how the food was raised and how animals were treated before their slaughter. This is why smaller, local food stores are often better, but because they are smaller, they are more expensive.

Now to respond to the switch is on. Fall has always been my favorite season, despite the inevitable memories of 9/11. Since it is the first time you have felt the cool breeze of winter creeping up, it makes you think both forward and backward, reflecting and planning. I often think now of the trips to the Catskill Mountains, the smell of open fires, the beautiful leaves, and towns, like Terrytown where Washington Irving lived. I also recall gallery openings, a new line up of shows at museums, and Central Park. But I also look forward to the beauty of WI lakes, trees, and parks; all that the school year has to offer, and the fellowship of the holidays.

As for Lost, Watch at your own risk. I am as often annoyed or irritated as I am thoroughly entertained. I also would caution Jen that it often surprises with a scene of intense violence, about which I feel ambivalent. I haven’t decided whether or not I want to get back into it or just get out.

Lastly, I won’t count myself out yet, but I have a conference the following week after the get-together in K.C. So the chances of me leaving Sara to fend for herself with the two kids for two weekends in a row are slim. Not to mention, I have somehow been roped into teaching a high school Sunday class on “Jesus as a storyteller.” I have not been able to download any of the films or music, thoug I haven’t tried very hard. Perhaps some simple advice in this realm would be of assistance. Or do I need to bother?

Ned

Instead of congratulating our food instincts for being so smart those of us who live in a culture of unlimited food must question them at every turn. We have seemingly limitless cravings for fat and sugar in a world where all instincts are exploited by commerce. In this culture our many of our beliefs about food are as confused and harmful as our beliefs about that other instinct (we’ll save that for another post).

I’ve spent a lot of time over the year thinking about and fiddling with my diet. I think I have a much better diet now than I did ten years ago. As a culture, we no longer have to spend most of our time trying to find or produce food as our ancestors did but we continue to spend a lot of time thinking about food. Biological cravings are inseparable from cultural cravings (and taboos). Our ideas about food carry as much emotional weight as the experience of eating. Unfamiliar food ways can seem like a threat so when someone questions your diet they are questioning your means of survival. Therefore, it should be no surprise how emotional people can become about food.

I spent most of my twenties wishing I could be a vegetarian. I felt guilty eating meat. I didn’t judge my diet by how healthy it was but by how righteous it was. However, as I stumble through my thirties I’ve become more aware of how food affects me, though as I mentioned, my ideas about food may often influence my physical sensitivity.

I have come to realize after years of eating of soy products that they either make me feel bad or put me to sleep and that meat and other animal protein in moderation gives me energy that I never knew I had. I feel healthier and more alive now than I did in those vegetarian wannabe days. It took a long time for me to overcome my ideas of good food and begin to understand how my diet was really affecting my health.

Certainly, other people may have the opposite experience and marvel at all those years they spent eating meat and failing to thrive.

My life changed when I started eating two eggs every morning for breakfast. When I eat eggs I start the day more alert and with a higher level of energy that continues through the day. The eggs led me to eat more animal protein in the rest of my diet which continues to make me feel more alert and energetic. My challenge now is to find the most moral forms of meat possible. Luckily, we have a pretty good natural food store in Elgin which provides grass finished beef and real free range eggs. Of course, fruits and vegetables and grains continue to be an important part of my diet too.

What are your ideas of a healthy diet? How have they changed? Or perhaps we should answer the larger question: What is the definition of “healthy?” Peters has touched on this in I am somewhere that I don’t know where I am.