Raw Table Saw

I just had to post and say I've now opened two coconuts with my table saw. Yes. I. Have.

If the blade height is adjusted just so, the blade will burn through the hard outer shell of the coconut, leaving the white meat in tact, and the coconut water safe on the inside. All I have next to do is cut through the meat with a knife, catch the water, and voila...easiest coconut I've ever eaten. I'm perfectly aware I could take a big cleaver and whack a coconut in half. Problem is I never hit hard enough the first 20 times, so little coconut shell chips fly all over the kitchen. With the table saw, I can score the coconut so it breaks into sixteen pieces, and I get the meat out with more ease.

The downside: coconut-sawdust in a thin layer over my entire body; coconut sawdust in my sinuses and eyes; sneezing from all that coconut in my nose.

Raw on a Budget; Raw in all seasons

The biggest problem in eating raw is not taste. It's money. For instance two pounds of organic tomatoes from the farmers' market costs about 4$. Zucchini noodles about 2$. That's makes four "servings" of raw spaghetti. The catch: tomatoes, garlic, zucchini don't pack the caloric punch of whole wheat spaghetti and canned spaghetti sauce, which I can purchase for about the same amount of money.

I still haven't figured out a way to make our budget fit with raw food. I start out the month optimistically, loading up on fruits and veggies at the farmer's market, or ordering bulk containers of raw organic coconut oil from discount stores online. But two-thirds the way into the month, I'm scrambling to stretch our remaining food dollars. Part of the problem is that our local harvest CSA program was supposed to start this third week in May. We've already put a sizeable portion of our food money toward the end of getting a farm fresh box of organic produce each week from here through October. Problem is, the rainy weather this year delayed planting of the seedlings. Our farm doesn't have anything for us and our money's tied up in the hopes that it will. Soon.

Recently Barbara Kingsolver documented a year of her family's experiment at living locally. One of her points is that it's hard to do this if you're unprepared. In other words, you have to make the most of the season's bounty--when produce is in excess--to prepare for the lean months. As a budget-conscious raw foodist/wannabe-locavore, I need not to buy tomatoes out of season, but purchase them when they're abundant, when all Iowans want to throw up if they have to eat one more tomato. THat's around August or September, and I know they'll be sold at reduced prices at the farmer's market. I can then freeze them or dry them and tuck them away for winter, so I can make my raw marinara and zucchini pasta for pennies.

The problem this year is that i'm behind. I have no apples or squash stored away from the fall. Now basil in my freezer from last summer. And of course, no tomatoes.

I have, however, contemplated and continue to contemplate, growing my own indoor avocado and lemon trees. You can never have enough lemons. Too bad I can't grow coconuts, bananas, mangos and cocao beans.

Is God Laughing?

As only a former anorexic can can confide in another, my friend K said the other night, while sampling some of my raw lemon-coconut macaroons, "They're good, but this feels too healthy." In other words, after all those years of carrot sticks and cottage cheese, K still feels like a too-long rendevous with fresh veggies and whole grains kicks her back in time to that 90-pound high-school-cheerleader mentality when carrot sticks and general deprivation was her lot in life. "Whenever that happens, I've gotta eat some junk food." And she does. Recovered long after her recovery was complete, I used to watch with envy and a certain degree of bewilderment as she ate half a bag of barbecue potato chips in one sitting, as she popped pocorn in olive oil for dinner, and when she broke out the Breyers mint-chocolate-chip ice cream afterwards.

In spite of the conclusion I've arrived at that I should do my best to honor this body God gave me, take care of it, feed it healthful things, there was something in her words that stung me, and I remembered how easily, in my carnal quest for peace and control, one obsession of mine can replace another. I'm not anorexic any more, but I've lived in my skin long enough to know I can pick up new rules for eating like I do a new memoir, and discard them just as quickly.

But just the same, after a birthday weekend filled with raspberry chocolate cake and baby shower-treats, I decided I would get back on the raw wagon. I thought about it in extremes: Maybe I would be 100% raw for 5 days (until the next family birthday celebration this comign weekend). Maybe the 100% raw thing could be like a spiritual fast, not something done just because. I could give up pizza for God. I read raw-food testimonials. Someone was cured of cancer through raw food. Someone else lost 100 pounds. A fifty year old "just keeps getting younger," having tapped into the vitality of a pack mule. What would it be like, I wondered, to be 100% raw for 2 years? What sort of energetic bliss could I enter into?

Two days back on my raw food wagon, I swear God played a joke on me and reminded me to stick with my new Rule To Trump All Rules, which is, simply put: No Rules.

There, on my back porch on Tuesday afternoon was a second-day air box, a belated birthday delivery. Its contents: 2 pounds of my favorite chocolate in the whole world. I've found this chocolate only on the west coast, Chicago, and at a little holiday kiosks in malls in other big midwestern cities. In other words, I hardly ever have an opportunity to buy it. When I do, its pricetag limits me. The dear lady who sent it to me ordered all two pounds to be packed in ice and shipped to me, having heard I loved it. I sat staring at the box and the irony of the situation did not escape me. I could not escape TWO POUNDS of chocolate, my favorite chocolate, cooked chocolate, staring me in the face. It was too much to quickly gobble up as a delightful one-time snack. Too much to even let sit on my counter for long, as the buttercream inside would go bad.

Unfortunately, I don't do well with excess. This might be related to the way I used to hoard food in my closet when I was five, thinking there wouldn't be any food for me the next day. Now, when I get a lot of something I love, I immediately fear losing it, and my impulse is to think I have to eat it all at once. I could feel my wheels spinning. What was I going to do with all chocolate? What was my plan for dismembering, piece by piece, the small bunker of cream and sugar and cocoa that trumpeted its presence on my kitchen counter? If I kept it in the house for a long time, I know it would call my name every raw day thereafter. I needed to enjoy it or in other ways get it out of my house.

Well, that was two days ago. I cannot claim I found any sort of zen when it comes to dealing with two pounds of chocolate. It's true my husband felt he had to take a chastising tone when cautioning me against throwing chocolate down the garbage disposal. Appalled, I claimed I would never do that. What I did was give a lot of it away. A huge portion to my mom, who also claims this chocolate as her fave. A couple pieces to a friend. More to my family. And, I ate milk chocolate bordeaux as meals for lunch and dinner, right along side my grapefruit and nori rolls. Do I feel as healthy and physically alert if I'd stuck with raw food? No. Did I keep to my No Rules rule in spite of all my intentions to the contrary? Yes. Is God laughing? Probably.

An Update

After eating only raw food for six days, I ate two meals of cooked food this past Sunday. Boy, the warmth and saltiness of that China Star garlic broccoli was delicious, but within a few minutes my nose started running and phlegm began collecting in the back of my throat. Gross but true.

That evening we also had dinner plans with my father and his lady-friend visiting from downtown Chicago. She'd been craving a Sonic burger (I don't know why), so they they picked up salty french fries and hamburgers for our fam. I ate it out of social niceness, but about a quarter of teh way through my Sonic burger I realized that there was absolutely nothign about it that appealed to me other than its temperature. I stopped eating, but my nose started running again.

Since Sunday I've eaten only raw food except for a cooked sweet potato, which is actually not wise to eat raw due to the enzymes it contains that work against digestion. I was pretty excited about it, pulled it hot from the microwave, drizzled olive oil and sprinkled salt on it. But with the first bite, somethign about it just didn't quite meet my expectations. I can't explain it other than it tasted dead, and by this point, I was so used to eating thigns that were alive, or at least not-dead, that I could tell a difference. It didn't call to me the way a sweet potato normally would. I never thought I'd get here, but I'm actually craving salads these days and can't wait for the farmer's market to open next month with fresh, local veggies.

The one downside to all of this is that I feel unusually tired, so tired I am inclined to nap in the middle of the day for hours at a time. I hope this changes soon, because my life can't sustain all this rest. I've read snippets here and there that this may be normal--that my body is "cleansing" itself of all is stored toxins, which results in us feeling exhausted. Nobody ever said cleaning house was easy, I guess.

Tonight is dinner with dad and lady-friend again. We're eating steak, and mine's going to be the rarest piece of meat I've ever put in my mouth. I've recently learned that some raw foodists (like Carol Alt) eat all sorts of meat and fish as long as its smoked or seared on the outside to kill bacteria. We'll see how that goes...

About Raw

In answer to Laura's question, let me give you the skinny on Raw Foodism. (If you do a Google search, you'll find more than you'll have time to read.) The theory behind raw foodism is that foods that are uncooked are healthier for us because of the enzymes found in them. These enzymes do all sorts of repair and maintenance work on our bodies that cooked food simply does not have the power to do. Apparently, our bodies are designed with a certain number of enzymes that help us break down cooked food, but I heard somewhere that by the age of 35 or 40, 75% of those enzymes have been used up by our bodies. That means we borrow enzymes from other metabolic processes in our bodies in order to digest our cooked food, or our pancreases work harder to produce enzymes to break down the food. When we get to this stage, other metabolic processes begin to suffer: think about breathing, organ maintenance and repair. Stuff like that. Some believe many diseases in our country are due to eating enzyme-deficient cooked food. By the way, enzymes are killed off at temperatures around 118 degrees, and some by temperatures as low as 105 degrees. This is why a lot of food can be warmed or "cooked" in a temperature-controlled food dehydrator and one can still benefit.

There's also a difference, apparently, between "raw" and "living" foods. Living foods would be things like sprouted seeds and nuts are actually in the process of growing. I"m not sure what the science is to show that these are more healthy than simply "raw" foods, but many raw foodists pledge allegiance to living things. In fact, simply soaking raw oat groats overnight will activate enzymes inside and make them more nutritious.

So by eating lots of raw food, not only does one avoid the damage done by eating lots of cooked food, but raw food helps to heal and restore organs and other places in the body that have been hurt by a diet of cooked food.

The Up-Side to Freedom

So, the whole no-rules thing is something I"m really digging about this new raw food way of life. Because of that, it's not a problem that my husband is currently buying me cheesecake at the Co-op (or that I ate a grilled cheese sandwich for dinner).

One thing I keep reading on raw food sites is that you shouldn't try to go completely raw until you know what you're doing. Otherwise, you're gonna wind up hungry and staring at the food dehydrator while you wait for your avocados to ripen. So, until I get the hang of things, I'm gonna give myself some slack.

The sad truth about my body is that it was actually craving McDonald's tonight. Now, normally, I HATE McDonalds--even in my non-raw state the idea of a meal there grosses me out. But tonight, I could almost taste the saltiness of a hot Filet-O-Fish. I've also been craving the cheesecake all day. I'm curious to know why this is happening now, after a few days of being mostly raw, that I'm craving junk. Some web sites call this "detox"--you feel tired, fatigued, craving cooked foods. It has felt a little like I've been fasting lately, even though I eat when I'm hungry. I've been more tired than usual, cranky, listless. But I'm told all this is supposed to go away eventually, that I will at some magical point in time, cross over into a realm of physiological bliss, vamped up on carrot juice and parsley.

Sprouted Lentils Taste like Mud and Weeds

It's true. I gave them my best shot: three rinsings a day, a warm cool place, then sunlight, and sprouted lentils taste like crap. At least to my mouth. The other bad news is that I think I'm allergic to sprouted wheatberries. The first time I ate them I began sneezing within half an hour. And two days ago, after my kickin' hummus-filled nori roll (with wheatberry sprouts), my mouth started itching.

So far the only sprouts that are edible are the quinoa. And not only edible, but delicious and fluffy. One out of three isn't bad.

I've been eating about 99% raw for the last two days now. The bad news about it is that I feel hungry a lot, and if I want, say, a cracker, I'd have to wait two days for it to dehydrate. Yeah. That's a long time to wait for something to dip into my guacamole.

I did see a cool demonstration of a raw apple pie the other day. If it tastes good, I'm gonna make some for our staff meeting at church next week. Those guys were just squirming last night with all the talk about sprouts and green smoothies.

Raw Hummus Nori Rolls and Wheatberry Sprouts: Will Raw Rub off on my Family?

Today's lunch was freaking unbelievable. I had little hope that the home-made raw tahini would work out, not to mention the raw hummus. But they both did. The raw hummus was a combo of tahini (made out of soaked sesame seeds) and zucchini. The recipe I followed called for 1/2 a TBS of cumin and sea salt, resulting in something truly fabulous and spicy. I've eaten about 95% raw for the last 36 hours, and I feel great. In fact--I do not lie!--I literally felt a surge of energy after eating that hummus. A cumin buzz, maybe?

But as I was layering hummus on my seaweed wrap, sprinkling wheatberry sprouts and arranging lettuce leaves before wrapping them up, I felt a flash of sadness that I haven't found anything yet I could share with my family. The homemade hummus is too spicy for the little girls, and the husband probably wouldn't go for anything containing seaweed. I keep reading about the amazing health benefits of going raw, and I think about my little girl who has seasonal allergies from spring till fall. What if all the fresh food and enzymes helped her body cope better during those seasons? It's been known to happen to others who have suffered from auto-immune disorders like allergies.

I think I'll have to woo the girls. And the first line of wooing will call for somethign sweet. Already, I've got my sights set on raw cocoa powder and raw chocolate nibs. Apparently, I can "cook" up a mean mock cookie-dough recipe with some sesame seeds and chocolate. Today, for the first time, I put a salad in my daughter's lunch box at school. "I didn't ask for that!" she cried when I told her I packed it. It was true. She did not ask. But I"m goign to be persistent in presenting her with fresh, raw options. Yet, I wont' force her to consume anything. Maybe, over time, enough raw chocolate, raw agave nectar, and raw honey will draw her over to the "raw side."

Now in regard to my husband, I have little hope. But dreams do come true.

Quinoa Sprouts and Kraft Macaroni

I ate quinoa sprouts for the first time today. I know some of you have heard of quinoa, and some of you have actually eaten it, too. Sprouting quinoa involved soaking it in water for a day, and then rinsing it three times daily for two more days, until it grew sprouts. I ate them on a salad with cold pressed olive oil and salt. They were magically, surpisingly delicious.

Coinciding with my quinoa sprouting experience today was an opportunity to buy groceries for a single mom of three young boys. I had forty of someone else's dollars to spend on groceries for Vicki* and I found myself in a quandary. Most of the emergency food provisions I've heard of people getting are canned or boxed goods--things like canned peas or potato flakes, peanut butter, and tuna. Forty dollars can buy a lot of canned peas at Aldi, but canned peas are not very nutritious. Neither is Kraft macaroni and cheese or peanut butter made with corn syrup or white bread. So the dilemma I faced was this: Do I use up the precious monetary resources on fewer items that contain more nutrients, or do I use those dollars to buy the largest amount of food possible, to fill those tummies as long as possibly can be filled. It felt like a toss-up. If I went for quantity over quality, those kids wouldn't necessarily be nourished even if they had something to put in their tummies. If I went for quality, at least they'd have a couple days of eating well, of low sugar-, hormones-, antibiotic-, and preservative-levels in their food. So, I did my best to walk the line between making the most out of those forty dollars and making the most out of the nutrition for Vicki and her boys for the next few days. I bought organic milk and hormone-free cheese. Those were almost twice the price of the conventionally processed products, but also the ones that, I felt, were worth the most money. I bought conventionally grown baby carrots and lettuce, but natural peanut butter (i.e. peanuts and salt--no corn syrup or sugar). I bought organic Raisin Bran (it was on sale! again, no corn syrup), conventionally grown oranges and organic bananas (organic bananas are cheap!), and sandwich ham and turkey that is processed without nitrates or sulfites. These were the sorts of foods Vicki had told me her children longed for. While I could have bought them two weeks worth of quinoa as well as most of those other groceries, I suspected Vicki and her family would neither appreciate or know what to do with quinoa. And while I valued nourishing their bodies, I also felt it important to meet the "felt" need her kids had, for familiar food, for something recognizable.

I'm sure one could scrutinize my decisions and see inconsistencies in them. I pretty much shopped with my heart, and avoided those products I think of as normally causing the most harm to people. Did I make the right choices? Just choices? I dont' know. Will Vicki and her family go back to eating typical emergency fare in a few days? I hope not.

*not her real name

People Have Called Me a Health Nut

for as long as I can remember. It's not entirely my own doing. My mother made our own butter when I was in elementary school. After skimming cream off the raw milk she bought from a local farmer, she whipped it into stiff peaks in our blender. It would have been fine if she'd stopped right there. She didn't. How could I make this more nutritious? She must have asked herself. Then she reached for the powdered Vitamin C. What resulted in my brown bag lunch was a rice cake with a gritty Tang-like spread smeared across it.

Since then, I've gravitated toward foods outside the mainstream--like avocado mashed on dried seaweed, like fresh kale softened with lemon juice and sea salt. And I've spent a lot of time reading and studying the labels on the things I don't eat, enough so that I squirm at Thanksgiving dinner when my host pulls that antibiotic- and pesticide- infested bird out of the oven, the one that was basted with hormone-, antibiotic-, and pesticide-ridden butter. It's all I can do not to gag.

My problem is assimilation. The further from mainstream I get, the harder it is to stay social in my eating. Throw in the additional complication of having a daughter with food allergies, and the stuff that comes out of my kitchen is practically alien food. I've spent a lot of time eating according to different value systems. First, there was the anorexic system, way back in college, where I celebrated with a brisk walk if I kept my intake to under 775 calories a day. That was a diet of carrot sticks and instant oatmeal. Then, when fat-free was all the rage, I cried as I watched my husband consume Breyer's mint-chocolate chip, sure those fat globules were going straight to the walls of his arteries. Over the years I've gone through phases where I've eaten carnivorously, avoided dairy and/or wheat for allergy reasons, and eaten Twix bars for lunch, daily. Most recently, I've been eating more like a vegetarian, for the first time in ten years and, to my shock, have remembered I can survive without meat. Throughout all the experimentation, two truths are becoming gleamingly evident: The older I get, (1)the less inclined I am to follow "rules," and (2) the more conventionally produced foods--canned, processed, non-organic, chemically preserved--gross me out and leave me feelign sluggish and achy.

So, where that leaves me is with my nose in Raw Food books, contemplating the likelihood of my living happily on raw, organic cheesecakes and flaxseed crackers made in my food dehydrator (set no higher than 105 degrees, so as not to harm living enzymes). As I write, I've got quinoa and wheatberries sprouting on the counter, an experiment I leapt into before I committed to any new way of life. Can a woman live on sprouts?

I'll keep you posted.