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Home Again, Home Again, Jiggity Jig

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Oh, where to begin? Before I left for Europe three weeks ago, I had every intention of writing a blog post or two and staying (mostly) current on reading blogs, but that, it turns out, was wishful thinking.

Instead, here I sit at 1:30 in the afternoon the day after we returned home, having been awake since 5:00am (and continually looking at the clock in amazement that it isn’t MUCH LATER in the day yet), utterly overwhelmed as to what to say or whether to read every blog post I’ve missed in the last three weeks.

Eve is on the couch in the family room, iPad perched on her lap as she downloads apps she’ll need for school this fall, her eyes opening and closing slowly, slowly, slowly.

Lola is banging around in her room, rearranging things and listening to music and I suspect it’s only a matter of time before both of them slide into oblivion, given that it is nearly bedtime in Spain right now.

Bubba got up at 7:00 this morning and headed off to work and I have no idea how he is faring right about now, but I do know that after dinner tonight, we will have to go for a long walk in order to stay awake until a reasonable hour to go to sleep.

As for me, I feel better than I ought to (although I am currently sipping a triple-shot Americano, so there is that) except for the finger I’m fairly certain I broke tripping up the stairs in the 100-year old farmhouse we rented in the South of France.  I did it the first night and, while I was able to move it fairly well and the swelling was minimal, the knuckles turned nasty shades of green and purple and I had to break into the first aid kit to tape it to it’s neighbor for a few days.  Two weeks later, it still aches from time to time, radiating up my arm to the elbow and I felt like it was healing okay until I came home and tried to use it to type.

The trip itself was lovely and exhausting and eye-opening.  We spent four days in Paris at a hotel and had great fun navigating the Metro and re-learning lessons such as don’t ride the Metro during rush hour or you’ll be smashed up against a lot of hot, smelly people – some of whom are determined to pick your pocket or grab your ass. My rudimentary French held up quite well, and I was especially pleased when I could use it to threaten a young man who was harassing Eve quite aggressively along the Seine. My Mama Bear emerged and my French was apparently convincing as he moved away quickly, eyes open wide, head shaking. Eve was mortified, but I was very proud of myself for several minutes afterward.

The South of France was amazing and having a house made things so much simpler. Not being able to eat gluten in France is a little tricky, given not only the obvious (croissants, baguettes) but because nearly every French sauce is based on flour and butter. Having our own kitchen meant that we could hit the farmer’s markets and buy amazing, fresh food and prepare it ourselves.  It also meant that we weren’t held to the whims of the restaurants that don’t even open for dinner until 7:30. We were in a small village near Montpellier and most of the places that serve food only do so until about 2pm and then open again at 7:30 for dinner, which makes it a little tricky if you’re hungry.

Our last week was spent in a tiny beach town in Spain, about an hour from Valencia. Here, we had a house, too, but the kitchen wasn’t nearly as easy to use, so we ended up eating out a lot more.  We spent a lot of time at the beach, remembering that European beaches are much, much different than the ones we’re used to. Tops are optional, by noon it is wall-to-wall umbrellas as far as the eye can see, and everyone smokes everywhere.  The sand is one giant ashtray and if you’re sensitive to cigarette smoke, you’re out of luck.  The weather and the view was absolutely gorgeous and the food was good for the most part, although one can get a little tired of paella after a few days.  The one morning we went out for breakfast, we were surprised to see the locals drinking beer and wine at 9am. The wine they cut with fizzy water, but the traditional breakfast fare seemed to be beer, a plate of peanuts in the shell followed by a plate of what looked like tomato slices, lettuce, olives and pickled onions and a baguette filled with either prosciutto or fried pork rinds.  Never have I ever been so glad to be gluten-intolerant – it was the perfect excuse to avoid that mess!

One day we drove about an hour down the coast to a town called Denia where we stumbled upon an arena bounded on one side by the marina. There were four rows of rudimentary bleachers on the other three sides and the arena itself was simply dirt. Inside were perhaps 150 locals, mostly young men 30 and under, although notably, there were some young women and one woman who looked to be around 50. One at a time, an angry bull was loosed into the mass of people whose goal was to entice the bull to chase them and fall into the water.  It sounded perfectly awful, but I confess it was a bit like watching a horrible car accident and I took pleasure in cheering the bull on as it herded entire swaths of idiotic young men into the water and stopped short itself.

As adventurous and fun as the trip was, we were all ready to come home and thrilled to be back in our own beds, cuddling with our pets, and eating our own food.  Over the next few days, we’ll settle in to the right time zone, clean clothes, and giving each other a little more space. I’m looking forward to wrapping my head around the writing projects I have to get done and writing a more substantial blog post. My attention is caught by the violence in the Gaza Strip and the recent Supreme Court decisions, but I don’t have the mojo to delve in quite yet.

For now, it’s just good to be home.

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A Few of My Favorite Things

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It is a glorious, sunny day here in the Pacific Northwest, the crocuses and daffodils are showing their gorgeous faces all over the neighborhood, and the dog had a much-needed bath yesterday for the first time in nearly nine months, so I’m feeling great! Plus, it’s Friday and we have a terrific weekend of great meals, catching up with friends, and lacrosse up ahead.

This salad is one of my favorite things these days. Often, I’ll find a recipe that I like and, over time, as I make it, I’ll add a few things or change a few things or tweak something. Not so with this salad. It is absolutely perfect as it stands. I keep shredded kale and brussels sprouts in the fridge along with a container of the dressing just so I can toss a bowl together at any moment. I’ve been known to have it for breakfast when I’m feeling starved and unimaginative.

These cookies are my new go-to snack or quick breakfast option for the girls. I have been trying to find more grain-free recipes, given our gluten-free life and the problems with eating too much corn or rice, and these hit the spot. I do often add a handful of mini chocolate chips to them (because, duh, why wouldn’t you) and I’ve played with different dried fruits. I love the tart dried apricots from Trader Joe’s (blenheim style) and the tart Montmorency cherries that add a bit of zing. Shauna Ahern is one of my heroes, given her thoughtful approach to cooking gluten free so I was delighted to find these on her website. They do take a bit of planning and a well-stocked grocery store, but the chewy, nutty texture is so worth it for this tasty, healthy snack.

This drink is so great! During cold season, I warmed mugs of it up and gave it to the girls and it soothed their sore throats almost instantly.  One morning when I woke up with heartburn and stomach upset (thanks to dinner in a new neighborhood restaurant that was still working out their gluten free options – whoops), I drank some over ice mixed with fizzy water and it helped settle my stomach.  It is relatively inexpensive, non-GMO, and tasty.  The last time I saw it on sale, I bought six bottles to keep in the basement.

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Of Diets and Nonsense

I have written about food and food allergies off and on here over the years, but it’s been a while, so I must be due for another post in that vein.

Over the years, I have had times where I felt like the bulk of my waking hours were spent engaging in activities related to food and cooking – shopping, meal-planning, meal prep and research. While I enjoy cooking a great deal, every once in a while I feel as though I have been treading water for a long time and I’m just so tired.  I feel overwhelmed by the amount of information out there about which foods are healthiest and which ones I ought to avoid.  A year or so ago when the information about arsenic in rice came out and even the FDA (who I generally don’t put much stock in since I’m fairly convinced they are tucked neatly in to the pockets of many major food corporations) got on board, I was thrown. As a family of gluten-free folks, this was alarming. We eat rice a lot, especially brown rice, and brown rice is purported to contain more arsenic than white rice. Add that to the ‘dirty dozen’ list and the research coming out about what GMOs and livestock fed antibiotics do to us and I don’t even feel like eating ever again.

As I have refined our gluten-free lifestyle, I have gradually moved from using things made with simple starches (white rice flour, potato flour, tapioca starch) to creating my own whole-grain flour blend thanks to a tip from Shauna Ahern, aka Gluten Free Girl. And last year, at the urging of my naturopath, I eliminated most of the grains from that flour and substituted seed flours such as quinoa and amaranth and nut flours instead.  Of course, the story truly begins with my naturopath who has repeatedly advised me to go on a Paleo diet. All of this came about when I started having some strange symptoms that we couldn’t pinpoint. Severe PMS symptoms, aches in the muscles between my ribs, and trouble taking a deep enough breath. We finally tagged the latter symptoms (along with some left side chest pains that radiated into my armpit – SCARY!) to an excess of gas in my upper GI tract that seemed to be cyclical with my periods.  The doc did some research and discovered that there is some correlation of all of these symptoms with an imbalance of estrogen (too much) to progesterone (too little). We have known about, and treated, my progesterone deficiency for several years now, but these pains were making me nuts. I was fairly certain I was having a heart attack several times a week, despite the fact that physical exercise didn’t exacerbate the symptoms and they literally disappeared for 10-14 days every month for no discernable reason.

My doctor believes that all of this is a response to my adrenal glands being stressed from food allergies and liver stress from years of food allergies and inability to process B vitamins.  She recommended I eliminate all grains, legumes, dairy and sugar from my diet.

She continues to recommend that every time I see her.

I can’t do it haven’t done it.

About two years ago I went off dairy for a month. It was doable, and other than losing about 10 pounds and discovering that every other kind of milk tastes nasty in my latte, nothing changed.  I was thrilled to head right back to the dairy aisle every week.

I keep hearing about the Paleo diet (and I have a few cookbooks based on it), and the TQI diet (also known as the anti-inflammation diet), and the Specific Carbohydrate Diet. I have heard the amazing stories of recovery and honestly believe them.  But there is this quiet voice in the back of my head (and a really loud one attached to Bubba) that says, “Nope.” That voice also says, “everything in moderation.”

That voice in my head also takes on a slightly petulant whine when it reminds me of how good I already eat. I cook 90% of our meals here at home with organic, non-GMO ingredients. I make my own flour blend and use very little sugar, instead substituting local honey. Every dinner that hits our table has a balance of protein and vegetables with a little starch in the form of rice or GF pasta or potatoes from time to time. We do not have cookies and ice cream stashed in the pantry and breakfast is generally yogurt or fruit and granola or toast with nut butter – not pastries. On the weekends, we eat more decadently, mostly because Bubba is in charge and he does love to grill or smoke red meat, but it’s lean and grass-fed.  We drink lots of water, very little juice, no soda, and 2% milk with no hormones added. We love cheese in this house. Probably more than we should.  But we don’t eat fast food and we don’t have prepared snacks or meals with preservatives in them unless we are really in a pinch.  The kids have potato chips maybe once a month and I never do.  My biggest vice is the glass or two of red wine I have while cooking dinner several nights a week. Yup, I’m petulant. A whiny baby, “I eat better than most everyone I know, why do I have to give up dairy and beans and sugar wine, too?”

I know that comparisons are BS – everyone’s body reacts differently to different things and what is good for me may not be good for someone else.  I know that I’m being a whiny baby. But I still can’t bring myself to limit my diet so severely. I am worried that limiting myself to a diet that uses only nut flours to bake with or coconut oil to cook with might end up making me prone to problems with those items, simply because I have over used them.  I am also unsure whether the symptoms I am currently experiencing have more to do with the freight train called “Menopause” that is hurtling toward me than any food I might be eating.

The problem is that I can’t find any answers that convince me one way or the other. My naturopath is urging me to try and see what happens, but turning my life upside-down like that for a “wait and see” outcome seems crazy right now.  The last few MDs I’ve seen have either told me flat out that the ND is nuts and I should just take Prilosec for the rest of my life to combat the gas symptoms and deal with the PMS because ‘it’s on the normal range of the spectrum’ for someone my age or they have shaken their heads in confusion and ordered blood tests that show nothing.

Yesterday I ran into a friend who is embarking on the TQI diet because her doctor did it and had amazing results for her back pain.  It got me thinking again about where to go from here and I have to admit I just don’t know.  I have my annual physical scheduled in three weeks with a new MD and I’m past the point of even entertaining the thought that she will find some smoking gun. I am simply hoping that she won’t pooh-pooh the fact that I see a naturopath and maybe, just maybe, be willing to consult with her to see what they can come up with between the two of them. I just hope they don’t add any more vitamins to the mix because the list of the ones I’m already taking is setting me back a pretty penny every month.

Is it supposed to be this hard?

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Of Diets and Dandruff

In January, my naturopath tried to convince me to try the Paleo diet in an effort to finally clear up the persistent flakiness on my scalp. I had come to her several years ago with a multitude of health problems, all of which she cleared up one by one:

  • early menopause? check.
  • severe depression and anxiety? check.
  • chronic irritable bowel symptoms? check.
  • low energy? check.
All but this one, that is. Despite trying all of the pharmaceutical and over-the-counter remedies for dandruff, the scaly plaques (I know, sounds sexy, huh?) on my scalp get better and worse several times a year, but never go away entirely.  We were both hoping that going off of gluten would solve the problem in time, but it has been more than three years now and I haven’t seen any improvement.  
Last Thanksgiving, we tackled dairy.  Despite my daily latte and my desperate need for cheese and yogurt. Oh, and butter. And, did I mention cheese?  Well, despite those things, I diligently eliminated dairy from my diet for three weeks. Soy milk or almond milk in my latte. No cheese or butter or yogurt at all. No ice cream. Or whipped cream on my crustless pumpkin pie. It wasn’t as bad as I had thought it might be, but I was secretly hoping it wouldn’t make a difference so that I could say I tried it and then go back to my dairy-days.  At the end of three weeks I had lost four and a half pounds but kept my dandruff. No dice.
I spent the Christmas holidays congratulating myself on my perseverence and self-control by consuming dairy, dairy, dairy and gaining all of the weight right back.  What? I hadn’t set out to lose weight. It was only right that I put it back where it belonged.
Enter January and the scalp condition was still there.  And here’s the thing – it’s seasonal. So every time there is a significant shift in the weather from one season to another, I have about fourteen days of worsening dandruff before it subsides a little. Weird.
So when my naturopath suggested I try the Paleo diet, which not only eliminates dairy, but any and all refined sugars and most oils and ALL GRAINS, I was a little shell-shocked. After cutting gluten from my diet, I have to say that we live on rice and potatoes for starch. We don’t eat much refined sugar and I use mostly coconut oil and olive oil, but I do love my dairy (see above) and I must eat chocolate nearly every day.  
I nodded my head sagely, listened to her personal testimonial as she had recently begun the diet herself, and left the office determined to find another way.  I researched my shampoo and conditioner and discovered – AMEN! – that they both contain wheat. Yes, wheat. Who knew? So I decided that this was certainly the issue and if I only found hair care products without wheat, I would be home free.  That proved more difficult than I thought, especially since I was on a crusade for products without sulfates or parabens, too.  Seems most ‘natural’ products think wheat qualifies as something beneficial to  add to their shampoo, so it was nearly a week before I discovered one that worked for me.
Sadly, it didn’t make a difference.
Months later, despite meeting many people who have modified their own diets to more closely adhere to the Paleo diet and despite the fact that I am still struggling with my dandruff, I am still holding out for a different solution.  I know Michelle and her family adhere to a strict diet that is similar and have had good success. I also know how hard she works for it.  I already cook nearly every meal at home for us, diligently planning meals days ahead and shopping for expensive, organic, whole food ingredients a few days a week.  It is work, but I love it.  I’m just not sure I’m ready to make it more challenging.  Because if I’m doing it, everyone is. I’m not cooking three different meals for four people in the house. Sure, I’ll have gluten-free bread available for the girls if they want a sandwich, but on pasta night, we’re not using rice noodles. (Oh, God! Thai food! No Thai food!)
And so here I sit wondering if dandruff is really not that big a deal and I can just live with it.  Or is it simply an outward symptom of some other destructive process going on inside my body that I can’t see?  I have recently noticed a few other minor health issues cropping up and have wondered whether trying this diet might help clear some of those up, too, but mostly I’m burying my head in the sand about them.  Unfortunately, my pattern seems to necessitate my getting smacked upside the head with something before I make a substantive change in my life.  Because change is hard. And so now I’m whining. But maybe one day in the near future I’ll be writing a success story about clearing up persistent dandruff by going on the Paleo diet. Or maybe you’ll notice that all of my clothing is white, in which case you’ll know I’m still burying my head in the sand. 
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