Celebrating an all-natural lifestyle

Just One Bite.

Hi all!

I’m glad you guys enjoyed the video. To clarify, my friend Ben who sent me the link is not the fellow in the video. But he may very well now wish he owned a pair of monkey boxers, too.

I’ve spent the last day or two mulling over a very thought-provoking note I received from a friend last week. She was recently diagnosed with Celiac disease, and on top of this, she has been making efforts to cut meat and dairy out of her diet (and I should add that she’s doing an absolutely terrific job!). She feels great, but she’s running into some of the predictable social scenarios that face us when we choose to change our diets. In her own words:

“I’ve decided that not eating animal derivatives at a meal is akin to turning down alcohol at a college party—it seems to make people feel guilty for their own consumption and many are unable to accept that someone’s choice not to consume something is as natural as their own choice to consume it. They get pushy or argumentative or tell me that I must be going through a phase and should just give it up sooner rather than later. I can’t tell you how upset my decision seems to be making everyone! Everyone except me, that is. I’m quite satisfied!”

I could not have summed the reality of these situations more astutely or succinctly. Regardless of what sort of diet you eat, there is a very good chance you’ve come crashing up against this situation before—at a party, a dinner with friends, a family reunion, or happy hour. Somehow, a small change (or set of changes) in your lifestyle manages to totally unnerve people. And as a result, they’ll be quick to judge, snicker at, or attack you.

When I became a vegan, I was shocked at the level of discomfort that my lifestyle seemed to provoke in other people. I was expecting curiosity, ignorance, and perhaps some teasing. But I was astounded to find that not eating animal products could provoke so much hostility.

I shouldn’t have been. It was all a repetition of the antagonism I encountered when I started to cut back on drinking in my early twenties (and later, when I gave it booze completely). Certain “friends” seemed personally offended that I wasn’t interested in drinking or getting drunk anymore—so much so that my sobriety became a marked source of tension between us. As uncomfortable as this was, it didn’t take me too long to assess what was going on: the fact that drinking didn’t interest me anymore was making these friends wonder why, with college a few years behind us, drinking still interested them so much. This was never a problem with friends who had a healthy relationship with alcohol and still isn’t; they didn’t care that I wasn’t drinking, and why should they have? They drank moderately and happily and for the right reasons, so they had no reason to be discomfited by someone who had a different sort of relationship with the sauce. But there were a few friends and acquaintances who seemed disproportionately put off, and it goes without saying that they were the ones who seemed to drink too much, or for too long, or too often, or perhaps out of social pressure.

This is not a complicated or revelatory psychological lesson: peer pressure and teasing (not to mention bigotry and hate) are nearly always the by-products of insecurity. We all know this. Even so, it can be downright astounding to see how poignant this tendency becomes within the realm of food. I’ve been blessed with a group of friends who won’t and don’t pass judgment on the way I eat (just as I never pass judgment on them), but I have come across a fair bit of animosity with new acquaintances and family members. And it’s no fun—especially if you’re doing your best to talk about your lifestyle choices in a fair, open-minded, and enthusiastic way.

The hostility you encounter might take one of many forms. It might be teasing: you might get flack for being a “hippie,” or “crunchy,” or asked, as I was once, when you planned on investing in Birkenstocks (for the record? I got my first pair this year. I feel OK about it so far.). It might take the form of downright hostility. And it might take my favorite form, akin to the ole “C’mon, just one drink!” refrain, which is “Come on. Why won’t you have just one bite??”—set to the motion of someone shoving a forkful of food at you.

My best advice for a scenario like this is for you to remember what’s really going on. Divest the situation of its discomfort, and consider the obvious: clearly, your choice to make any kind of healthy change (be it dietary, drinking-related, or a lifestyle choice, like quitting smoking or starting to work out), is forcing someone else to take a tough look at his or her own choices. And that person doesn’t like what he or she sees. This is too bad—as I hope you all sense by now, I feel very distressed when anyone feels guilty or insecure about food. Food is to be enjoyed, not lamented. But someone else’s insecurity simply isn’t your problem, and it is especially not your problem if they happen to foist it onto you in the form of anger or derision.

If someone seems simply baffled by your lifestyle choice, try to explain it succinctly and with lots of warmth and enthusiasm. Don’t account for your decision by rattling off facts or statistics or stuff you’ve read in books—that’s unnecessary, and it will immediately make other people adopt a defensive posture. Instead, focus on yourself and your personal health: say how great eating vegetarian, not drinking, practicing yoga, or not combining proteins and starches makes you feel. Say it with a smile and a sense of self-assurance, and I guarantee that you won’t hear another peep.

With those who are being unkind, on the other hand, try to diffuse the situation quickly and assertively. Just say, “I’m really happy with [insert name of lifestyle choice here], so I’d prefer not to discuss it any further”—or something along those lines.

And if all that fails? Break out the brutal honesty. The last time I heard “why won’t you just have a bite?!” I countered with a very gentle and deadpan, “Why is it so important to you that I eat a bite of the food you’re eating?”

It worked. Beautifully.

I’m so glad that my friend has the self-assurance and intelligence to separate her feelings of personal satisfaction from her feelings of social acceptance or approbation. This is hard for many women (and some men, too!). But believe me when I say that it is a skill that can be easily learned—especially if you can internalize that oh-so-crucial life lesson that undue hostility usually hails from a place of self-loathing. So be glad that your own feelings of self worth are not tethered to what others are and aren’t doing around you, and stick to your convictions, whatever they may be.

Have a great evening.

xo

Astounding Revelation

I interrupt your regularly scheduled Tuesdays for the following astonishment, brought to me by my friend Ben. I (and, quite possibly, you too) have spent my entire life believing that there is only one way to open a banana. I was wrong. Very wrong. Behold, friends:

Who knew? Now you can make that banana soft serve even faster!

Raw Foods Tutorial: The Raw Cocktail Party

Hello, all.

It’s Sunday, which means another week is looming. As I stave off thoughts about unread manuscripts and neglected editing, I’m checking in to share—as promised—some recipes from Tuesday’s highly eventful cocktail party.
Raw entertaining (is it just me, or does that sound naughty) can be great fun. It’s a chance to show guests just how delicious raw foods can be. And, if you’re lucky enough to have open minded friends, it’s also a nice chance to share some green juice!

My advice for the newbie raw hostess (or host) is the same advice I give all raw foodies: keep it simple. Believe me when I tell you that planning elaborate raw dinner parties or hors d’oeuvres can be rough, at least at first: you’ll spend a few days prepping and a lot of time stressing. My first raw dinner (Christmas ‘07) was, good intentions notwithstanding, a true disaster. It involved a soup that demanded three strains through a cheesecloth, not to mention eight hours of soaking walnuts; a salad that involved ungodly expensive truffle oil; the lasagna from Raw Food, Real World (which is truly delicious, but seriously time consuming); and a raw cheesecake that would not, in spite of my superhuman efforts, set in my freezer. Oh, and did I mention raw flax crackers? Those too.

Since that fateful night, I’ve learned that well-prepared salads and simple soups are usually enough to wow family and friends; I’ve never served a kale salad that wasn’t a hit. For special occasions, I typically just break out my spiralizer and make some cashew alfredo, and I watch my guests marvel over the fact that they’re eating a vegan sauce.

It’s very much the same for cocktail parties. A few simple appetizers are enough to please my friends and keep my sanity intact.

With that in mind, I present to you Gena’s quick and easy tips for a raw cocktail or dinner party:

1)    Be selective. It’s tempting to plan a five-course tasting menu that features all of the recipes you’ve been eying for ages. But it’s more satisfying to get two or three recipes (say, carrot-avocado bisque and simple raw sushi) right, than to attempt four or five and feel harried—or, worse, to produce culinary flops. Quality over quantity folks: for any hostess, this is a good lesson!

2)    Think about pairing dishes together that utilize the same ingredients (in the meal I’m about to share, the avocado cumin dressing and guacamole are a good example; so are jicama rolls two ways). This will help you save on time and on an outrageous grocery bill. And if you honor food combining, it will of course help you to keep your tummy in tune

3)    Select dishes that are somewhat familiar. If your guests are somewhat new to raw foods, this may not be the night to test out that sprouted buckwheat breat and seaweed soup you’ve been meaning to try. Stick with foods that are recognizable enough to be welcoming, but utilize them in fun ways: stuff guac into romaine leaves, rather than serving it with chips and salsa, or make a bit of zucchini “pasta” with marinara sauce.

4)    Rely on dips and sauces! It’s so much easier to make a few simple foods (veggie roll ups, a crudite platter, some nori rolls) with a variety of dressings and sauces than it is to make a variety of dishes themselves. In the case of the cocktail party lineup I’m about to share, dressings truly made all of the difference.

For last Tuesday’s event, the pressure was on: my guests comprised a bevy of seasoned chefs (and by the way, I am still grateful that Heather and Ashley provided the desserts, since it’s not my specialty!). My first recipe was inspired by the asparagus and summer squash rolls I made some time back. I loved these, but I figured that jicama would make an even easier and more delicate wrapper than squash. I was right. These were perfectly light and tasty.

To make the jicama rolls, simply peel a whole jicama root. Next, cut it in half (so that you have to half moon shapes). Lay it with the cut side facing down and slice the two narrow sides off so that the cut side takes on a rectangular shape. Next, slice the root, cut side still down, thinly on a mandolin.

Take the slices, and stuff them with veggies of your choice! For this party, I made one set stuffed with cucumber and carrot, and another stuffed with asparagus, yellow pepper, and cilantro.

I served them alongside two dipping sauces. The first was my avocado cumin vinaigrette, inspired by a Myra Kornfield recipe. I’ve blogged about it before, but here’s the recipe again:

Creamy Avocado Cumin Dressing (makes 1 cup)

Ingredients:

1 tsp whole cumin seeds
3 Tbsp fresh lime juice
3 Tbsp EVOO
1 ripe avocado
½ tsp salt
¼ tsp Dijon mustard
1 garlic clove, minced
¼ to ½ cup water (depends how thick you like it)
Black pepper

To make the dressing, dry toast the cumin seeds in a heavy bottomed skillet until fragrant. Grind into a powder using a spice grinder. Add the cumin, lime juice, oil, avocado, salt, mustard, garlic, and water and blend in a blender until very smooth. Sprinkle with pepper and season to taste.

The other was an Asian dressing:

Asian Dressing (Makes 1 1/2 cup)

Ingredients:

1 inch ginger
1 cup olive oil (or flax oil)
2 tsp sesame oil (toasted)
Juice of 1 lime
4 tbsp mellow white miso
6 dates, pitted, or ¼ cup maple syrup
2 tbsp nama shoyu
1/3 cup water

Blend all ingredients on high till creamy and emulsified.

Here are the carrot and cucumber rolls with the Asian dressing:

And the asparagus rolls with the avo-cumin dressing:

I decided that no evening at my pad would be complete without some of my famous guac. So I whipped up a batch.

This is so easy to serve: you can pair it with crudités, healthy tortilla chips (in case you guys are wondering, I recommend the Guiltless Gourmet brand), or my serving method of choice: some romaine leaves so that guests can make their own tacos. Like so:

To round out the party, I decided to show off some of my pizza cheese. And how better than in mini “pizzettes”? I made a batch of the nut cheese, sliced a zucchini, and topped each slice with about a tablespoon of the cheese. I covered each with a basil leaf and half of a cherry tomato and voila! A fancy looking but uber-simple hors d’ouevre.

This was all I was planning on, but I had a late-day realization: two of my guests (a Hangry and a Hippie) are hummus fiends. So I figured I had to keep them happy. I whipped up some raw zucchini hummus and paired it with a big crudite platter.

What about drinks? Since I don’t drink myself, I always encourage guests to bring over whatever they like. Elise was kind enough to bring over a lovely bottle of Zinfandel. But I always like to offer my guests some green juice, too; why not alkalize as we socialize? (WOW. Did I just write that? I think blogging has officially decreased my cheesy humor threshold). Because juicing for six (let alone two) is a major pain in the a**, I’ll always hit up Liquiteria for some bottled juice on the day of a dinner party. On this evening, we were all treated to greens with apple, lemon and ginger.

(Photo courtesy of Heather)

The best thing about this menu? None of it required more than a few extra minutes of chopping and blending in the days before the party. On the Sunday before, I whipped up both dressings (which took about thirty minutes, Vitamix washing included), chopped my jicama and shredded my veggie fillings for the rolls (another 20 minutes), and chopped my zucchini and cherry tomatoes. I put everything in airtight containers, so that it would be ready to assemble and roll the day of the party.

On Monday, I made my hummus for the Hangry Hippies, and I made the cashew cheese (another 30 minutes). The day of the party, I spent a grand total of thirty minutes rolling the rolls, assembling the pizzettes, and laying out the crudités and hummus. After everyone arrived, and as they were chatting, I mashed up my guac. And away we went.

See? No sweat. Much less sweat, actually, than if I were to make hors d’oeuvres that necessitated  oven time or stovetop prep. Best of all, the food kept nicely for a few days hence. (All but the guac, which was pretty much gone by the time the girls left, anyway!)

I hope this gives you all a sense of how to put together some easy raw nibbles for a party! And if it doesn’t, here are some other appetizer ideas:

-My spicy thai dressing with spring rolls (you can make your own, or order from a thai joint – these have rice paper rolls, but they’re basically raw-ish!)

-A raw soup, like the carrot avocado bisque, served in individual shot glasses

-Cucumber or zucchini rounds topped with a nut pate

-Flax crackers (you can purchase them if you don’t have time to make them) and dip of choice

-Celery sticks filled with raw almond butter or tahini

I hope you’ll all be inspired to invite some friends over for some fresh and energizing raw treats and some good conversation soon. And hopefully your bathroom ceiling won’t collapse while you’re at it.

I wish you all a great start to the week!

xo

Food Matters: You Pick Yourself Up, You Dust Yourself Off

Hi guys,

Thank you so much for the nice comments about my bathroom breakdown! Since I moved into this apartment, I’ve had a number of amusing/scary mishaps, but this one is the undisputed winner. At least I can add it to my bastion of stock New York City disaster stories. That said, my management company could not have been more helpful: within 24 hours, my bathroom had a repaired and painted ceiling, a new toilet, new lighting fixtures, and someone – whoever did the work – was kind enough to vacuum and sweep. I’m going to get that person’s name from my landlord and send him raw cookies or something.

So I’m home from two nights of being a refugee at my Mom’s, safe and sound.

I’m moving on to another in my “Food Matters” series. For those of you who missed the first of these posts, I’m using this “series” as a chance to discuss the things I’m learning from my work—for it’s a plain fact that I learn as much from the clients I coach as they do from me. Today, I’d like to talk about (and pay tribute to) a very courageous client of mine who exercised the quality of resilience this week.

This client—Joanna, we’ll call her—is young, exuberant, intelligent, informed. In short, she’s all of the things I could hope for in a client! Due in part to an acute health condition in her past, she, like many other women, has developed some imbalances with food. She has a tendency to overeat at times, and then to berate herself with guilt and shame.  In recent weeks, Joanna has been eating a balanced, mostly raw and plant-based diet and feeling tremendous improvement. A few nights ago, she told me that she’d had a difficult night. She overate dramatically, especially in comparison to the equilibrium of the last few weeks, and was in a state of major regret.

What makes this story so remarkable is not the fact that Joanna suffered a setback; it’s the buoyancy she demonstrated the day after. Rather than waking up and calling it quits—and then spending the day with a tub of ice cream or a box of cookies—Joanna woke up, ate a light and healthy breakfast, went shopping for produce at Whole Foods, and remained calm. She didn’t feel her best, but she didn’t allow herself to feel defeated, either. She didn’t purge or take laxatives or take any other drastic and unhealthy measures to erase what had happened, and she didn’t spend the day overwhelmed with regret. And because she didn’t, she’s now back on track, eating well and feeling energetic and hopeful once again.

We all know the proverbial story of falling off of a bike (or a horse) and never getting back on, right? It’s very much the same with overeating. A person who’s overeaten will think, “what’s the point? Now I’ve blown it; I might as well continue to overeat, or to purge, and give up on this whole health kick.” This is both unfairly self-critical, and also totally self-indulgent. To berate oneself for a bad night is harsh and unnecessary. On the other hand, it’s also complacent; it’s using a momentary slip as an excuse for giving up.

Here’s another analogy. Ever wake up with a hangover? You feel lousy, if not lousy and remorseful at once. You know that you can drink some coconut water, go for a walk, and have a banana. Or you can lie in bed all day and eat a bacon egg sandwich. It may be tempting to do the latter, but you will undoubtedly feel better if you do the former. Best of all, you’ll be reminded that one icky morning is not a permanent failure; it’s a minor setback, from which you can easily rebound.

The point is this: it’s totally human to have a bad night. It’s human to overeat, or even to binge; it’s human to have a few too many margaritas at a party, or to eat more dessert than you wanted or needed. What defines the moment is not your aberrance from generally healthy habits, but rather the resilience and strength you demonstrate in getting back on track.

Part of getting back on track is realizing that one evening is not enough to derail you—EVER. Think of it this way: if you were to exist on a diet of Big Macs and milkshakes, and you happened to eat salad for a day, would you consider yourself a healthy eater? Probably not. Well guys, the converse is also true: a single carb-fest or trip to the ice cream pint is not enough to make you an unhealthy eater—no matter what your guilty conscience tells you.

Guilt, I like to remind my clients, is a uniquely counterproductive emotion. Guilt is what compels you to lie in bed, rather than taking a restorative walk; guilt is what makes you want to overdo it at the gym when you feel as though you’ve gotten off track; guilt is what makes you turn away from healthy habits, away from feelings of self-worth, away from anyone who’s supporting you in your journey towards balance. Guilt is your enemy, plain and simple: it isn’t going to make you any better.

Strength, on the other hand? Resilience? Hope, even when you’re down? These are the feelings that—no matter how hard to muster—will push you back towards feelings of balance, pride, and joy.

I am deeply proud of Joanna’s attitude this week. She had a moment of frustration, but she defined herself as resilient and determined when she picked herself up, dusted herself off, and started all over again. She is a shining example of the best we can all do when guilt or remorse strikes: to start fresh, remembering that no single slip-up is enough to jeopardize overall progress.

I hope what you all will take away from this is a gentle reminder that forgiveness and determination are always more valuable than remorse or despair.  This is just as true in life as it is in matters of health: being downtrodden by a professional setback, heartbreak, or personal loss will inevitably prevent recovery and healing, whereas resilience—even when it’s hard to muster—will allow for a fresh start.

On that pleasant note, I wish you all a good weekend!

xo

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