And by YOU, I mean your body, thinking mind, unconscious mind, the spark of light that is your life-force - all of it!
What part of "you" makes most of your food choices? Our bodies sends us the signal that it's hungry, but then our analytic brains get all up in our face and take the fun out of eating. Or, the conditioning and habits that are the realm of the unconscious mind cast their spell and make choices we later regret. If you're eating something "healthy", but not delicious, chances are it's the poor brainwashed and bombarded thinking mind doing all the choosing. If you're buying a triple-thick Harvey's milkshake to suck back in the car, you could be following the commands of your shadow-side, to your body's chagrin (or perhaps delight!).
What about tuning in to what the body desires, or what will truly satisfy your soul? How about making food choices that have balanced input from all aspects of yourself, instead of letting one facet dominate the rest? Mindful eating is like a democratic revolution of your self! Don't most grass-roots revolutions start in the kitchen, or at least involve pots and pans?
This post was inspired by several things that have happened in the past few days. I heard this fascinating interview with Nina Teicholz, the author of "Big Fat Surprise". I had a great discussion with a good friend about a cleansing diet she did, how she felt, and how she wants to integrate what she learned into her life. I've been reading "French Women Don't Get Fat" (more on that another time), which is really a manifesto of the French approach to mindful eating, with some weight loss tips thrown in. And I read this excellent blog post from a woman advocating size acceptance (as opposed to judging fat people).
Remember grade school biology? The definition of a living being is something that eats, digests, breathes, and reproduces (basically). I'm so done with the miasma of information and mis-information that has turned one of our most elemental functions into yet another plaything of capitalism, politics, scientific debate.
I've been researching and considering my food choices to ensure that they are healthy, ethical, and environmentally sustainable for over 20 years. There's just one piece of advice that I bother trying to follow anymore:
Monday, 26 January 2015
Thursday, 11 December 2014
The (persimmon) Tree of Knowledge
Do you even know what a persimmon tastes like?
I had no idea, but I thought I knew what they looked like. I am a biologist who identifies trees for a living, after all. My sweetheart and I were recently on vacation on the U.S. Atlantic Coast where we encountered an enticing tree with succulent orange fruits hanging from its boughs. We were in a state park, so we knew that we shouldn't pluck the fruit of the tree. However, like any good omnivores, curiosity took hold of us. This story may be familiar to you.
No, we were not visited by a talking serpent, banished from the park, or smited (smitten? smote?). Instead we experienced an indescribably unpleasant mouth experience. It was truly shocking. Have you ever eaten a cotton ball soaked in hydrogen peroxide? Don't. You can just eat an unripe persimmon instead. According to Wikipedia, which I checked out later that night to make sure we weren't going to die, I learned that persimmons: are unpalatably astringent (or "furry" tasting) if eaten before completely softened. You don't say. I also learned that if we ate too many unripe persimmons we could develop an adhesive "foodball" in our stomachs. The stuff of gum-swallowing children's nightmares.
I just finished Michael Pollan's book "The Omnivore's Dilemma". The dilemma is this: when you are an animal that has evolved to be able to eat many, many things (in contrast to animals like koalas, who can only eat eucalyptus leaves, or monarch caterpillars, who only eat milkweed), how do you choose what to eat? My sweetheart and I had undertaken the timeless omnivore's experiment when confronted with a novel food item: try a tiny bit, see if it tastes good, and wait to see if you get sick. Very much like the "mindfulness classic".
This problem was much more fraught when we were foraging on the savannah in our loincloths. Today we are surrounded by such an abundance of food that our omnivorous brains say "Yay! Eat everything! It's ALL good!". And so, we are a society of mindless eaters. Surprise?
I had forgotten about the persimmon experience until I discovered the online mindful eating tracker, created by Pavel Somov, the author who inspired me to begin this blog a year ago. A woman describes the taste of eating a RIPE persimmon, for the first time. Very, very different from my experience, but both were mindful in their own special way.
I had no idea, but I thought I knew what they looked like. I am a biologist who identifies trees for a living, after all. My sweetheart and I were recently on vacation on the U.S. Atlantic Coast where we encountered an enticing tree with succulent orange fruits hanging from its boughs. We were in a state park, so we knew that we shouldn't pluck the fruit of the tree. However, like any good omnivores, curiosity took hold of us. This story may be familiar to you.
No, we were not visited by a talking serpent, banished from the park, or smited (smitten? smote?). Instead we experienced an indescribably unpleasant mouth experience. It was truly shocking. Have you ever eaten a cotton ball soaked in hydrogen peroxide? Don't. You can just eat an unripe persimmon instead. According to Wikipedia, which I checked out later that night to make sure we weren't going to die, I learned that persimmons: are unpalatably astringent (or "furry" tasting) if eaten before completely softened. You don't say. I also learned that if we ate too many unripe persimmons we could develop an adhesive "foodball" in our stomachs. The stuff of gum-swallowing children's nightmares.
![]() |
| Beware the beckoning fruit |
This problem was much more fraught when we were foraging on the savannah in our loincloths. Today we are surrounded by such an abundance of food that our omnivorous brains say "Yay! Eat everything! It's ALL good!". And so, we are a society of mindless eaters. Surprise?
I had forgotten about the persimmon experience until I discovered the online mindful eating tracker, created by Pavel Somov, the author who inspired me to begin this blog a year ago. A woman describes the taste of eating a RIPE persimmon, for the first time. Very, very different from my experience, but both were mindful in their own special way.
Thursday, 4 December 2014
A year of eating mindfully
Or at least, a year of THINKING about eating mindfully, and many days of actual mindful eating.
I started this blog just over a year ago as a way to motivate myself to eat mindfully more often. Accountability through the creepiness of the internet.
As Jon Kabat Zinn, the grandmaster of modern mindfulness says, you've got to walk the walk. You can't just agree with the principles, or read about it, or think about it. Mindfulness is a way of being. He admonishes: every time you think about talking about your mindfulness practice, shut up and DO it (I'm now about to ignore that great advice and continue writing this post).
Mindful eating is becoming a way of being for me. (Dear sweetheart: Yes, even that last long day on our recent roadtrip counts! I was fully aware of how mindlessly I was eating ALL of the crappy weird American junk food and I consciously made that choice because I was being bored to death by the audiobook we were listening to. I didn't actually mean it when I said it was your turn to choose.)
What really transformed mindful eating from a nice idea that I studied thoroughly to something that is part of my lifestyle was participating in the online course based on Jan Chozen Bays' work. Having a supportive, if virtual, community to share experiences with and learn from created a quantum leap in my mindful eating practice. So, I'm so excited to be launching my own mindful eating introductory course in my city, with real live people! (Send me a comment in the box below if you want to learn more.) I have some more blog posts simmering, but I'm going to be focusing on the course for the next few months.
There were recently 2 huge validations of the progress I've made on my mindful eating journey. I'm sharing them so that you might be inspired on your path too.
I started this blog just over a year ago as a way to motivate myself to eat mindfully more often. Accountability through the creepiness of the internet.
As Jon Kabat Zinn, the grandmaster of modern mindfulness says, you've got to walk the walk. You can't just agree with the principles, or read about it, or think about it. Mindfulness is a way of being. He admonishes: every time you think about talking about your mindfulness practice, shut up and DO it (I'm now about to ignore that great advice and continue writing this post).
Mindful eating is becoming a way of being for me. (Dear sweetheart: Yes, even that last long day on our recent roadtrip counts! I was fully aware of how mindlessly I was eating ALL of the crappy weird American junk food and I consciously made that choice because I was being bored to death by the audiobook we were listening to. I didn't actually mean it when I said it was your turn to choose.)
![]() |
| You mean nothing to me. Today. |
There were recently 2 huge validations of the progress I've made on my mindful eating journey. I'm sharing them so that you might be inspired on your path too.
Huge Validation #1:
I read some of my earlier blog posts from a year ago. There's no better evidence of your own transformation than seeing your thoughts in black and white. That's why so many different kinds of programs advocate using a journal.
Tip for you: If you're trying mindful eating, consider keeping some notes on your experience. The "Before I Eat" mindful eating app is one handy way to do that.
Huge Validation #2:
I attend many meetings each year where meals are provided. I just came home from yet another one, where the food was plentiful and quite tasty. There were yummy desserts at every meal, and - get this - hot chocolate AND chocolate milk dispensers! And, of course the best part was I didn't have to shop, cook, or do dishes.
In such circumstances I used to struggle with the temptation to eat so much that I was uncomfortably full, to eat desserts every time they were available, and to drink chocolate beverages all day. This time there was no struggle. My body wanted to eat mostly fruit and veggies. I didn't even think about the chocolate milk. I quickly recognized that the hot chocolate was sub-par. I chose to have 2 chocolate desserts over the course of a few days, and I thoroughly enjoyed them. I was not a perfect mindful eater. But, I was not a total mindless eater, either. I'm talking sea-change here!
Tip for you: If you've been trying to eat mindfully and feel like you're not getting anywhere, try to notice if there are any specific habits, cravings, or ways of thinking that have changed for you. Even if it's something simple like putting down your fork between bites. That's a big deal! You've changed a lifelong habit, and if you look at the people around you, you'll notice that you're having a regular moment of awareness while you eat that few others are experiencing.
3 more tips for you:
Be patient. Try again. ENJOY eating!
Sunday, 23 November 2014
The Secret Sits
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| Sigh....this is not my sweetheart. |
I just had a textbook demonstration of our collective
mindlessness sucking the richness out of experience. It was at a Royal Wood concert. What?
You don’t know Royal Wood? Well,
as they say on the good ol’ CBC (which you obviously don’t listen to), your
next favourite song is right here. Or here.
His voice is resonant as a cello. His songs are Michael Ondaatje novels, or
maybe Tom Thomson paintings. His live
shows are aesthetically satisfying in so very many ways. You know that corny term “dreamboat”? This is a man to whom you could apply that
word without irony. I mean, he closed his
show with his own adaptation of my favourite Robert Frost poem. Mercy.
Excuse me. I’m
getting carried away.
Anyway, there was this moment in the show. The intimate little theatre was dark and
still, with a single spotlight glowing on him. He was at the grand piano,
carefully drawing the song to a close.
Before he could conclude the audience started in with the clapping. It was so unsatisfying. Even he seemed a little frustrated, like we
cut him off before he got to his final point.
Wait for it. This
post actually relates to mindful eating.
This happens at movies too.
I didn’t mind people getting up before the credits of American Hustle at
the multiplex, but when I’ve just had my mind blown in some moving or
thought-provoking way at the local art-house theatre, I’d like to sit for a
quiet moment before the lights come up.
Where’s everybody in a big hurry to get to? It’s not like there’s going to be a traffic
jam on the sidewalk as they walk home.
I’ve realized I do this same thing pretty much every time I
eat - as do most people, I’ve observed.
Doesn’t matter if it’s a square of my new favourite mint dark chocolate,
or a delicious (or mediocre) meal I’ve cooked.
Before I’ve finished chewing the last bite, I’m outta my chair and on to
the next thing. Filled my gut; time to
hit something else on the to-do list.
Ridiculous, isn’t it?
So, my practice lately has been to try to notice the urge to wrap things
up before the last bite has reached my belly, and to just PAUSE.
At the end of a yoga class we don’t put on our sneaks and
scram. We rest in corpse pose –
sometimes for a long time. And then we
sit. And then we chant Om. There’s a reason for this. Why not treat our meals with the same
appreciation?
Way back in the early days of my yoga life, I sometimes left
the class before the final savasana. Too
busy to lay around doing nothing! This
was a lie, of course. I was a grad
student. I had nothing to do but find
ways to avoid finishing my thesis. I
really didn’t get the point of yoga back then.
I’m more aware now.
Taking a moment to appreciate my food with some gracious thoughts at the beginning of my meal still eludes me, but I can remember to rest in satiety
after eating. I used to be a premature
clapper too. But where’s the pleasure in
that?
![]() |
| Sigh...THIS is my sweetheart. Making me coffee in our outdoor kitchen. That's way dreamier than playing the piano. |
Sunday, 16 November 2014
Gratitude
(An aside: I'm sorry, my American friends, but it makes SO much more sense to have this holiday in October. I recently visited your fair country and saw plenty of Christmas decorations, but no cheerful orange pumpkins, happy turkeys in pilgrim hats, or wreaths of colourful autumn leaves. So why bother celebrating Thanskgiving at all?)
The point of "looking deeply into our food" was to trace the path the food took from a seed in the ground to my plate, and then to feel gratitude for each person and energy source involved in each step. I struggled with this one. I'm pretty righteous when it comes to food choices, and for my most righteous foods the exercise was so easy it seemed almost pointless. It went like this: farmer's market, shopping bag, bicycle basket, fridge, cutting board, stove, plate, mouth. Or even better: backyard, hand, mouth (this applies to my fall raspberry harvest).
Of course, if you want an A+ on this one, you could think about the people who first domesticated raspberries from the wild fruit, the carbon sources that went into making the soil I planted the canes in, the First Nations people who were displaced when Europeans founded this city and started building it, the family who first built my home 100 years ago, etc. etc.
Although I'm righteous, I have my vices, too. For the vice foods (say, instant hot chocolate or coffee), this was so difficult and abstract I couldn't train my mind to concentrate on it. I found it easier to do this when I actually went to Nicaragua and saw how coffee is grown.
But being the keen student that I am, I wanted to make sure that I completed the exercise properly. I chose a beautiful heritage squash that I had bought from Freedom Farms, my favourite vendor at the local farmer's market. I've visited this farm during an Open Farms event, so I could even picture where the squash was grown. This farmer is friendly and chatty so I know a little bit about the trajectory that brought him to the farm, and the squash to my home.
Here is a list of gratitudes that came up as I prepared, cooked, and eventually enjoyed my lovely little squash.
As I look deeply into this heritage squash, I am thankful that:
- it was part of a lovely centrepiece I arranged for the Thanksgiving meal I shared with people I love
- there is some left over to eat on another day
- it is full of intense orange nutrients
- it is feeding my healthy body, which I will use to go do fun activities
- there is an amazing farmer's market down the street from my house
- the farmer that sold me this squash is so pleasant
- I can roast the seeds for a yummy snack
- I can put the skin into my compost and one day it will become part of my garden
![]() |
| Who wouldn't feel thankful buying beautiful veggies from these smiling faces? |
Thursday, 30 October 2014
"Meditation" on a mug of hot chocolate
One of the participants in my online mindful eating course inspired me to try a fascinating exercise. She described how she took a small plate of PC chocolate chip cookies (the drug of the nation*) and took the time to deliberately apply all that we've been learning in the course to eating them. She ended up feeling full after only 2 cookies, and only ate a total of 4 cookies in the space of 40 minutes. I was impressed.
I tried a similar approach with a cup of hot chocolate. I had been thinking about having a hot chocolate all evening. I do love a hot chocolate - as much as I love a chocolate chip cookie (or 100 chocolate chip cookies). Hot chocolate can quickly transition from a rare treat to a can-a-week habit for me.
Here's what I did. I treated the mug and its contents as an object of meditation, much like you would use a candle, or a sound, or your breath. I even turned off the music, sat on my meditation cushion, and lit the candles on my little meditation table (Hey, I'm a yoga teacher. Having such items hanging around the living room is part of the job description).
Much like any other meditation practice, a series of impressions floated in and out of my mind:
I tried a similar approach with a cup of hot chocolate. I had been thinking about having a hot chocolate all evening. I do love a hot chocolate - as much as I love a chocolate chip cookie (or 100 chocolate chip cookies). Hot chocolate can quickly transition from a rare treat to a can-a-week habit for me.
Here's what I did. I treated the mug and its contents as an object of meditation, much like you would use a candle, or a sound, or your breath. I even turned off the music, sat on my meditation cushion, and lit the candles on my little meditation table (Hey, I'm a yoga teacher. Having such items hanging around the living room is part of the job description).
Much like any other meditation practice, a series of impressions floated in and out of my mind:
- The swirls of bubbles in the surface of the hot chocolate mirror those in the mug pottery. I love this mug. I'm so glad I bought one like it for my friend. What's the name of this potter again? I better find out when the potter's guild sale is. Oops. Thinking.
- A sudden very strong and happy image of drinking cheap hot chocolate from a styrofoam cup while skating on the frozen lake in the centre of my hometown on a cold and bright blue day.
- The liquid is surprisingly viscous. That might be gross.
- The heat coming from the mug is very pleasant on my hands. Where should I place my hands for the optimal level of warmth?
- How come this is so ridiculously sweet? Why have I never noticed that before?
Like any other meditation practice, I also got distracted and forgot what I was doing. I stopped for a bit I took a bunch of blurry underexposed pictures of the mug. I looked at all the little doodads on my meditation table. I wrote this whole blog post in my head. I wondered about the lady who shared the idea of this exercise with me. I thought about going to bed.
Sometimes, on very special occasions, insight or inspiration may arise during meditation-like activities. Tonight was my lucky night! I was able to detach myself from pure desire and all the other non-stomach forms of hunger for the hot chocolate. It was very much like when you say your name, or any other word, out loud or in your head too many times. It stops sounding like a word and you start to question whether it really is a real word, or your name. (C'mon. Every kid has done that at some point, haven't they?) It's a disconcerting experience. The mug of hot chocolate became a neutral object that I could observe with curiosity, but I lost my interest in ingesting it. In fact, the thought of pouring it in my mouth and swallowing it seemed faintly absurd.
Now kids, be careful if you try this at home. This is not for the newbie mindful eater. I'd call this an intermediate level act of liberation. Liberation it truly was though, because I usually down a cup of hot chocolate fast enough to poach my stomach lining. Tonight it took me a good 20 minutes to drink 3/4 of it, and I let the rest go cold because I lost my interest in it. That has NEVER happened in my entire life. Doing this exercise with a bowl of canned fruit cocktail or "wax" beans or sardines with entrails intact would not be nearly as powerful, if you want to ease into it.
*Fans of Michael Franti should check out this thought-provoking video he made in the days before he did yoga and got all joyful. Hmm. I just realized this man has been influencing my thoughts since 1992...
*Fans of Michael Franti should check out this thought-provoking video he made in the days before he did yoga and got all joyful. Hmm. I just realized this man has been influencing my thoughts since 1992...
Friday, 24 October 2014
My life as a dog
Humans, with our enormous, complex brains, are excellent test subjects for conditioning. Conditioning is the formation of unconscious habit patterns of behaviour based on events that happen in our lives. You know, like Pavlov's infamous dog.
I first learned about applying the concept of conditioning to PEOPLE from one of the wisest sparks of light I know, Shayla. In my online mindful eating course we've been looking at how this concept applies to our eating habits. It's not easy to step outside yourself and try to tease these things out. This is also known as the "fish in the water doesn't know that it's wet" effect.
So my faithful companion (I'll call him FC to protect his identity) is giving me a paw with this exercise, since he's a dog and they know all about conditioning.

FC conditioning example: In my city many downtown businesses welcome your dog inside, and even give out treats. There is one particular store that FC got a treat in ONCE, years ago. We've been in many times since, but they don't give out treats anymore. And yet, every time we walk by this store, he really wants to go in.
Human application: Many years ago, I actually enjoyed the taste of Diet Dr. Pepper, and felt great after drinking one. I now feel sick after drinking it. It actually makes my back hurt, which is confusing and troubling. I know it's poison. And yet, when I happen to encounter a Dr. Pepper opportunity in the afternoon, I really want one. It's time to recognize that craving Dr. Pepper is pointless.
FC conditioning example: FC was afraid of having his collar put on him when I first got him. He's a quirky guy. So now he gets a little treat every morning when I put his collar on him. This routine is a BIG DEAL with much excitement involved, because it precedes his morning walk. The second he hears the click of the buckle he's snuffling around looking for his cookie. We both know it's not really about the cookie.
Human application: I've mentioned my fondness for fancy coffees before. I get them decaf, so it's not like I have a physiological NEED for them. I just love the routine of going into one of my favourite coffee shops, flipping through the newspaper, and enjoying the atmosphere. It's not really about the coffee after all, but the peaceful break in my day. I'm trying to acknowledge this and fully enjoy my fancy coffee break, instead of getting them to go. Or, if I'm tempted to go drop almost 5 bucks at Coffeeco, maybe I just need a moment to sit in a sunny window and read the Globe and Mail. I can do that for free at the public library if I really want to. Their chairs are more comfy, anyway.
FC conditioning example: Since FC is part Labrador Retriever, I try to be careful with the amount of food he gets. Sometimes he'll leave a few little kibbles behind in his bowl, and I always find this so odd. I guess he's full. No room for 5 kibbles.
Human application: This is an example of what it looks like to eat purely out of hunger, and to stop eating when the hunger is gone. No conditioning - just straight up eating. Leaving food on my plate is a new phenomenon for me.
FC conditioning example: FC is showing signs of developing a new eating habit that I need to quash immediately. Recently while we have been enjoying relaxing weekend breakfasts, he has lurked past the plate of food that we have left at his nose height and large items have disappeared into his mouth. He's like a magician. Or a black hole. First the full slice of peameal bacon, then the cinnamon bun. This is new - he used to just take sneaky little licks of food when we left it at his nose height. We are going to ensure that he does not succeed at this again, or else this will become a serious problem.
Human application: I made some very delicious homemade granola* (links to recipe below) a few weeks ago and brought a jar to work as an "emergency" snack. I discovered that it is even more delicious with chocolate milk, and what do you know? The next day I somehow had another snack "emergency". I recognized the warning signs of a bad habit forming, and divested myself of the chocolate milk in the work fridge. Looking after myself = making colleagues happy.
FC conditioning example: FC came into my life as a 1 year old. I don't know what his early eating experiences were. I was determined not to have a dog that begs at the table, so I have NEVER fed him from the table, and nobody else is allowed to, either. FC begs at the table anyway. He is part Lab, after all.
Human application: I don't really know how all my early experiences may have shaped my beliefs and habits around food. Some of them may go way, way back. I might not be able to change all of them because they're deeply ingrained. There are no skinny women in my family. Recognize, accept, adapt.
*I found 2 new food-related blogs while searching out my granola recipe online. These blogs are nicely written and aesthetically pleasing. This is a popular recipe, and these two ladies explain why:
I first learned about applying the concept of conditioning to PEOPLE from one of the wisest sparks of light I know, Shayla. In my online mindful eating course we've been looking at how this concept applies to our eating habits. It's not easy to step outside yourself and try to tease these things out. This is also known as the "fish in the water doesn't know that it's wet" effect.
So my faithful companion (I'll call him FC to protect his identity) is giving me a paw with this exercise, since he's a dog and they know all about conditioning.

FC conditioning example: In my city many downtown businesses welcome your dog inside, and even give out treats. There is one particular store that FC got a treat in ONCE, years ago. We've been in many times since, but they don't give out treats anymore. And yet, every time we walk by this store, he really wants to go in.
Human application: Many years ago, I actually enjoyed the taste of Diet Dr. Pepper, and felt great after drinking one. I now feel sick after drinking it. It actually makes my back hurt, which is confusing and troubling. I know it's poison. And yet, when I happen to encounter a Dr. Pepper opportunity in the afternoon, I really want one. It's time to recognize that craving Dr. Pepper is pointless.
FC conditioning example: FC was afraid of having his collar put on him when I first got him. He's a quirky guy. So now he gets a little treat every morning when I put his collar on him. This routine is a BIG DEAL with much excitement involved, because it precedes his morning walk. The second he hears the click of the buckle he's snuffling around looking for his cookie. We both know it's not really about the cookie.
Human application: I've mentioned my fondness for fancy coffees before. I get them decaf, so it's not like I have a physiological NEED for them. I just love the routine of going into one of my favourite coffee shops, flipping through the newspaper, and enjoying the atmosphere. It's not really about the coffee after all, but the peaceful break in my day. I'm trying to acknowledge this and fully enjoy my fancy coffee break, instead of getting them to go. Or, if I'm tempted to go drop almost 5 bucks at Coffeeco, maybe I just need a moment to sit in a sunny window and read the Globe and Mail. I can do that for free at the public library if I really want to. Their chairs are more comfy, anyway.
FC conditioning example: Since FC is part Labrador Retriever, I try to be careful with the amount of food he gets. Sometimes he'll leave a few little kibbles behind in his bowl, and I always find this so odd. I guess he's full. No room for 5 kibbles.
Human application: This is an example of what it looks like to eat purely out of hunger, and to stop eating when the hunger is gone. No conditioning - just straight up eating. Leaving food on my plate is a new phenomenon for me.
FC conditioning example: FC is showing signs of developing a new eating habit that I need to quash immediately. Recently while we have been enjoying relaxing weekend breakfasts, he has lurked past the plate of food that we have left at his nose height and large items have disappeared into his mouth. He's like a magician. Or a black hole. First the full slice of peameal bacon, then the cinnamon bun. This is new - he used to just take sneaky little licks of food when we left it at his nose height. We are going to ensure that he does not succeed at this again, or else this will become a serious problem.
Human application: I made some very delicious homemade granola* (links to recipe below) a few weeks ago and brought a jar to work as an "emergency" snack. I discovered that it is even more delicious with chocolate milk, and what do you know? The next day I somehow had another snack "emergency". I recognized the warning signs of a bad habit forming, and divested myself of the chocolate milk in the work fridge. Looking after myself = making colleagues happy.
FC conditioning example: FC came into my life as a 1 year old. I don't know what his early eating experiences were. I was determined not to have a dog that begs at the table, so I have NEVER fed him from the table, and nobody else is allowed to, either. FC begs at the table anyway. He is part Lab, after all.Human application: I don't really know how all my early experiences may have shaped my beliefs and habits around food. Some of them may go way, way back. I might not be able to change all of them because they're deeply ingrained. There are no skinny women in my family. Recognize, accept, adapt.
*I found 2 new food-related blogs while searching out my granola recipe online. These blogs are nicely written and aesthetically pleasing. This is a popular recipe, and these two ladies explain why:
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