What I Just Finished

If you've ever wondered why you just can't stop eating certain foods, even when you have admirable self discipline in other areas, this book is for you.

From Publishers Weekly:

Conditioned hypereating is a biological challenge, not a character flaw, says Kessler, former FDA commissioner under presidents Bush and Clinton). Here Kessler (A Question of Intent) describes how, since the 1980s, the food industry, in collusion with the advertising industry, and lifestyle changes have short-circuited the body's self-regulating mechanisms, leaving many at the mercy of reward-driven eating. Through the evidence of research, personal stories (including candid accounts of his own struggles) and examinations of specific foods produced by giant food corporations and restaurant chains, Kessler explains how the desire to eat—as distinct from eating itself—is stimulated in the brain by an almost infinite variety of diabolical combinations of salt, fat and sugar. Although not everyone succumbs, more people of all ages are being set up for a lifetime of food obsession due to the ever-present availability of foods laden with salt, fat and sugar. A gentle though urgent plea for reform, Kessler's book provides a simple food rehab program to fight back against the industry's relentless quest for profits while an entire country of people gain weight and get sick. According to Kessler, persistence is all that is needed to make the perceptual shifts and find new sources of rewards to regain control.

I Don't Usually Watch Horror Films, But . . .

. . . I did watch this one, and if you care about what you put into your body, you should, too.

"In Food, Inc., filmmaker Robert Kenner lifts the veil on our nation's food industry, exposing the highly mechanized underbelly that has been hidden from the American consumer with the consent of our government's regulatory agencies, USDA and FDA. Our nation's food supply is now controlled by a handful of corporations that often put profit ahead of consumer health, the livelihood of the American farmer, the safety of workers and our own environment. We have bigger-breasted chickens, the perfect pork chop, herbicide-resistant soybean seeds, even tomatoes that won't go bad, but we also have new strains of E. coli—the harmful bacteria that causes illness for an estimated 73,000 Americans annually. We are riddled with widespread obesity, particularly among children, and an epidemic level of diabetes among adults.

Featuring interviews with such experts as Eric Schlosser (Fast Food Nation), Michael Pollan (The Omnivore's Dilemma, In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto) along with forward thinking social entrepreneurs like Stonyfield's Gary Hirshberg and Polyface Farms' Joel Salatin, Food, Inc. reveals surprising—and often shocking truths—about what we eat, how it's produced, who we have become as a nation and where we are going from here."

What I Just Finished

An inspiring and cautionary tale for women of all ages, Hungry is an uplifting memoir with a universal message about body image, beauty and self-confidence.

Editorial Reviews

"A riveting read."-- Nigella Lawson

"An eye-opening tale for all women, Hungry explores the difference between the fantasy that society projects and the reality of what makes us happy. Crystal Renn's experience debunks the modern-day Cinderella story of the fat girl who loses weight to get happy. This is a new fairy tale, one in which a young woman embraces the size she's supposed to be and the world opens up for her." -- Lori Gottlieb, author of Stick Figure: A Diary of My Former Self

"Crystal Renn is a high-spirited, convincing spokesperson for broadening our notions of beauty. Hungry adds a unique twist to a growing women's chorus: even if you are young and beautiful, as Renn is, it's best to give up the addiction to slimness for the sake of personal authenticity, social relations, intimacy, and sexual pleasure." -- Joan Jacobs Brumberg, author of The Body Project and Fasting Girls

"Hungry offers an intelligent and intimate look inside the modeling industry and into Crystal Renn's heart. Renn's epiphany -- that she didn't have to be a size 0 to find success and happiness -- serves as a more powerful portrait of strength and beauty than anything a camera could capture." -- Wendy Shanker, author of The Fat Girl's Guide to Life

Lesson Learned

I’m no health freak, but I do try to eat a healthy diet, so when my son was booking our flights and asked if I wanted to make any requests regarding my meal selections, I thought it would be a good idea to select the “Low Fat/Low Cholesterol” option.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong. Very Bad Decision.

My meals were AWFUL. I mean, they were so bad I couldn’t eat them. We’d had a nice meal at the airport before we left on the flight over, and I had a granola bar in my backpack, so I made it through the first flight okay.

But on the nine-hour flight back, I literally starved. I should have been prepared, but I wasn’t. And they didn’t seat us together on this flight, so I couldn’t even beg leftovers from his tray. By the time we landed in Minneapolis, my stomach thought my throat had been cut and I had an awful headache.

But it’d be okay, I thought. We had a long enough layover to have a meal. By this time, I’m so hungry I’m picturing a couple of courses in a nice restaurant with candles and cloth napkins . . .

Wrong again.

I didn’t factor in Customs—two overseas flights arrived at the same time and they were using only one metal detector. Aaaarrrgggghhh. By the time we made it through, I had to settle for the unthinkable--McDonalds french fries stuffed in my mouth while trotting down the conveyor to our next flight.

Moral of the story? When you fly, just let go and eat the full-fat version.

Fiction Withdrawal

All my reading lately has been nonfiction, and I’m going through fiction withdrawal.

Now, don’t get me wrong. I love nonfiction. But it’s like a diet of all vegetables. They taste great and they’re good for you. But sometimes you just want dessert.

The reason I’ve limited myself lately to nonfiction is that, with this genre, I have much more self control. I can close the covers, put it down, and not feel quite as compelled to read when I should be doing something else. Like working on a dissertation.

But, man. I stare at the unread novels on my nightstand like a dieter longingly eyes the pastries in the bakery shop window.

Really. I do.

Faulty Association

Back in my youth, for some unknown reasons which will not be analyzed here (got any ideas, Mom?), grapefruit became associated with diets and deprivation. So for years, I ignored them when I browsed the local produce section.

But one day, a year-and-a-half or so ago, a large, beautifully shaped grapefruit caught my eye. I picked it up, enjoyed the heavy weight of it in my hand, and decided to buy. The next morning, I cut it in half, admired its firm pinkish-red flesh, and tentatively separated a section to taste. Oh, my.

Now, no breakfast is complete without half a grapefruit. If I don’t get to eat one—because I ran out unawares, because I haven’t gotten to the store, because those at the store didn’t look worth eating—I am not a happy camper.

Weird, huh?