What Goes In

I couldn’t imagine killing a wild boar in order to feed myself but ever since reading Michael Pollan’s Omnivore’s Dilemma a few years ago, I've seen this form of hunting in a different light. This month’s Utne Reader excerpted an article from the newsletter Counterpunch which asked progressives in the U.S. to consider the fact that some rural people fear gun restrictions because they need to hunt for food to feed their families in lean months. And I recognize that as a meat and fish eater, an animal had to die for me but being so far removed from that process of the food chain, this point is easy to overlook.
I’ve thought about all food sources differently since reading Michael Pollan’s books, Barbara Kingsolver’s Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, and Paul Roberts’ The End of Food, among others. However, fresh baked bread was always calling my name so I figured, even with this newly acquired knowledge of how food gets to my plate, as long as I was consciously choosing ingredients, I could sustain myself without feeling too guilty, or nauseous.

I was all over transfat-free foods long ago and, much to the chagrin of some un-named members of my family who didn’t understand why I chose to interfere with their enjoyment of processed cheese or artificial flavour, I have always restricted certain foods from our household. I’ve made the effort to source local meat, eggs, and greens that are organic or naturally-grown, eat in-season while shopping at farmers’ markets, and support manufacturers of organic and natural products at the store. I buy organic fair-trade coffee beans, refuse to buy garlic grown in China, and try to grow vegetables in pots on my deck in the part shade (to no avail). My next goal is to join a farm co-op where they deliver various vegetables to your door, and maybe then I’ll finally figure out what Swiss chard is.

The biggest change in the kinds of food I was eating happened more recently because I was fed up with a digestive system that was ruling my life and finally found out what was causing all the problems. After months of research, I came across the Specific Carbohydrate Diet, which, in simple terms, explains how certain foods are harder to digest so once I eliminated those foods, I felt more like myself again. Unfortunately, the so-called illegal list consists of my four favourite food groups—pasta, bread, pizza, and chocolate. To be more specific, if I want to feel well, I can’t have any grains, lactose, sugar, or starch.

In order to broaden my meal choices, I’ve had to adapt recipes, make my own yogurt, mayonnaise, sauces, dressings, and bake using walnut flour and almond flour (an expensive commodity, and if I were a betting person, I suspect more people will eat this way in the future so we should all invest in the lucrative almond market right now). What I can eat are fruits and vegetables (except potatoes, sweet potatoes, and corn), seeds and nuts, including peanut butter, lactose-free cheeses and dairy, butter, certain beans, unprocessed meats, eggs, fish, coffee, very dry red wine, and, although no pigs will be harmed by my own hand, a few pieces of crisp, naturally seasoned bacon are permitted. The only sweetener on the allowable list is honey and I keep a jug of it big enough to feed an army; that’s when my family knew I was going whole-hog with this lifestyle change.

After a time, you can slowly introduce more things back into your diet and see if your body chemistry has adjusted itself enough to digest these foods again without unpleasant symptoms. That’s the stage I’m at now and knowing how to help myself means I feel I have control over my well-being again. I would recommend this diet change to anyone experiencing digestive upset, insulin-resistance, or general lethargy because it's the foods in our typical North American diet that may be part of the problem.

We often take food for granted, especially because hunger is a strong instinct, but food has a chemical make-up and its sources have an impact on people and our environment therefore I want to stay aware of what goes in and where it comes from.

Smart Cookies

Have you ever put your shoes on the wrong feet by accident? It takes less than a second for your brain to register a malfunction and alert you to the fact that you’re not paying attention. Your brain is like a computer program that uses cookies to collect information unbeknownst to you. This subconscious data-gathering usually isn’t noticed until something goes awry, such as when you get a cavity filled at the dentist; your tongue has a map of your mouth and when this anomaly shows up, it grabs your attention for a couple days until this new bump assimilates in your brain. Speaking of getting used to new bumps, we’ve finally said goodbye to the original blue bathroom fixtures in our guest bath but I must say, they knew how to design a comfortable toilet seat back in 1960. Our new toilet lid will softly close by itself and you don’t need to workout in order lift it like our hefty blue one but getting used to the feel of the new seat will take some time, and a few new brain cookies.

I also find it interesting how vivid a first impression can be when you’re in a new space or driving through an unfamiliar town, until you spend enough time there and these images become glossed over. Even things which were once annoying or ugly will blend into their surroundings after time and are no longer noticeable. Your mind is still processing these feelings but you have become unaware of it. For instance, I’ve recently spent hours stripping the paint off our hallway door trims. As the old layers were scraped off to reveal the grains of old-growth maple, a weight was lifted off my mind as the visible reminder of previous owners disappeared. It was hard work but I am rewarded on a constant basis because I pass through this section of the house countless times in a day and not only do I feel better about correcting this erroneous decorating decision but there are no lingering negative thoughts toward past occupants of my home (or maybe just less negative thoughts until that purple carpeting is removed from our bedroom, and their bad tile job is replaced in the foyer, and well, we have a ways to go, but we’ll get there, eventually).

One thing my brain loves is to see everything looking neat and tidy in its place and I feel a strong compulsion to correct anything out of order. Also, I often get mixed up when I go to get something where it’s always been even though I know it is somewhere else because I just moved it. And more than once a day, I will walk into a room and completely forget what I was there for and have to backtrack my steps until I figure out what prompted me into action. Apparently my cookies aren’t what they used to be, although, I’ve never had a good short term memory. I think it’s because my brain is too full of important facts to worry about retaining information used only for mundane daily activities. At least, that’s my story and I’m sticking to it.

I don't worry that I’m not hardwired to remember everything. And I don’t know about you but I’m grateful I can’t recall every sad story or disturbing picture I’ve ever seen and I can honestly say that I forgive and forget because I really don’t remember what happened or what was said. My husband, on the other hand, remembers everything (except what I told him five minutes ago) and doesn’t hesitate to remind me about something foolish I mentioned at one time or another in our twenty years together, long since forgotten, that he will pull out of his bag of tricks in order to push my buttons. As a result of his overconfidence in the memory department, he’s the type of person who sees a product manual as an affront to his masculinity. He gets it set in his mind that he knows exactly how to assemble something and lets himself get to an exasperating level of frustration before the job is done. That’s when I pull out the crisp set of directions still neatly folded in the box and casually point out that he missed Step 4. I’m okay with not understanding how to do everything, that’s what instructions are for, and my brain is full.

Taking Stock

I have been reading books about food security, or preparing for a crisis in order to ride out an unforeseen predicament such as severe weather, natural disasters, power outages, and the like. The government has sent out brochures with a list of things to do in case of emergency, directing me to websites I can visit for more information in case I don’t understand the imminent danger I may be in if I don’t have enough canned food and medical supplies on hand. I have tried to heed these instructions but have only prepared half-heartedly. I admire those people living off the grid who will still be able to make toast and watch movies as if nothing has changed, and I will envy those who shop at warehouse stores with their 24-pack of spaghetti sauce and six-month supply of toilet paper. Who will be laughing then? I am much too reliant on a business-as-usual atmosphere that has numbed me into thinking only too little about how I would get along without easy access to utilities and groceries. Right now, a world wide web of information is at my fingertips, light is at a flick of a switch, cool air washes over me in summer while warm air surrounds me when snowflakes are falling outside. Stores are open every day, I can walk or bike easily within my little town, and for the most part, I’m not worried about my personal safety. I may not be living my best life but all signs point to an easy one.

We cleared out a large walk-in closet near the kitchen to use as a pantry and my intention is to store the items we’ll need to sustain ourselves if the time comes. I have an inkling that not many of us are prepared for even a 24-hour crisis by the heavy crowds at the grocery store the day before it closes for a statutory holiday. When non-perishables are on sale, I try to stock up, then use the FIFO method to make sure I don’t poison my family with the bacteria build-up from a long-ago expiry date. Although, I usually don’t have to worry about which foods have been there the longest because we tend to finish off any food in the house long before First In, First Out would take effect.

On my list of things to get are: food-grade pails for bulk storage, a surplus car battery, and a first-aid kit. I imagine water will be our utmost concern. They recommend filling up your tub as soon as an emergency strikes although I’m not sure how desperate I’d have to be to drink from it. We do keep a case of water bottles handy but since they expire after several months, we have to use them up in the privacy of our home so as not to seem environmentally insensitive. 

A loss of electricity would become uncomfortable to say the least. A power loss in winter would make for chilly nights, unless you know someone with a gas fireplace who wouldn’t mind sharing sleeping space with you. Note to self: get a gas fireplace. And did you know your toilets need electricity to operate? After a while, the local water pumping station will lose pressure and you will be unable to flush unless you want to use your precious supply of water to fill the tank manually. I guess there’s always the woods out back.

When our conventional food supply runs out, our weeds will no longer be the bane of my gardening existence, as I’ve written about previously. The pioneers who plagued us with edible non-native plants such as dandelion will seem like geniuses. Note to self: cordon off area for outdoor potty away from lawn. A creek runs through our backyard that we may be able to use as a drinking source if I overlook possible pesticide run-off from upstream. Note to self: get a water-test kit. I could forage for berries in the summer, and although my DVR recording of Know Your Mushrooms won’t be operational, I’ve gleaned enough information to make a go at it, if need be. What I really need is to have a good old-fashioned book with pictures to tell me how to prepare my native plants to make them non-toxic and digestible. The deer feast on them like a buffet every year so I’ll have to finally stand my ground and fend them off.

I’ll regret not listening to my husband when he wanted to buy a generator but we don’t live in the sticks and the only time we’ve lost power for more than an hour was when everyone on the eastern seaboard did in 2003, so on my list of emergency-preparedness priorities, it’s right after getting a Canadian flag to hang upside down while in distress on open water.

If the...you know what...really hits the fan, we’ll use our renovation supplies to seal off the house with 6 mil plastic and duct tape. I’m glad I live in Canada where our cultural tendencies toward politeness and passiveness will keep the peace for a length of time. And my strong husband was always handy for moving furniture but I’ll look at his broad shoulders in a whole new light. Unlike the Americans, we’ll be kicking ourselves for not packing heat all along. Of course, if the chaos got that bad, I may just want to kiss this world good-bye and leave my supply of canned sardines for another sucker.