Foie gras profitroles at Le Pigeon in Portland
Something Delicious on Toast, Oliveto's, Oakland
Foie gras on top of a jelly doughnut
Duck gnocchi
Fried green tomatoes in Ashland, OR
After the most indulgent month I’ve had in a long time, (I mean you only get married once, right?) I decided to finally take the plunge and do a cleanse. To give you an idea of the type of month it was, in a span of 10 days we ate at Oliveto’s upstairs, Chez Panisse downstairs, Chez Panisse upstairs, Dona Tomas, Flora, Mua, The Paragon, Sushi Zone, Hog Island Oyster Co., and Cesar. After feasting all over the Bay Area, my cousin Dasha and I went on a road trip to Oregon where we continued to eat really well. Believe me I’m not complaining, but I own too many cute clothes for them to stop fitting. So since moderation is an art I’m still finessing, rather than slow down gently, I decided to pull the emergency brake and do the controversial Master Cleanse. The Master Cleanse is where you stop eating altogether and just drink a mixture of lemon juice, cayenne pepper and maple syrup for the duration of your choosing, up to 40 days (I hear).
My goal was ten days, but I ended up doing seven with two days easing in and 3 days easing out, a total of 12 days of not eating solid food. The first day was really easy. There was so much food accumulated in my system that my body didn’t even miss not having much for a day. Besides, the first day I was allowed to eat fruits and vegetables so it really wasn’t too bad. Day two was considerably worse. I was allowed to have fruit and vegetable juice, but it was like going through withdrawal, which got worse as the day went on. When Alex came home and had his dinner of Spaghetti and Meatballs I thought I was going to cry or wrestle the meatball from his mouth, but I didn’t do either. Day three was painful, but already less so and by day four I felt great, at least in the morning.
When you’re not eating you realize how big a role food plays in your life. It is much more than three half-hour long meals a day. You structure your whole day around it both physically and psychologically whether you know it or not. I found it liberating not to have to worry about breakfast and lunch. Waking up in the morning was easier on an empty stomach and I sprung out of bed light as a dandelion spore and well rested. I enjoyed the ritual of squeezing the lemons and mixing in the syrup and pepper, knowing that I had all I needed for the rest of the day. I felt meditative, monk-like with a clear head and it was great to sit at the computer and write while sipping water, tea or my concoction. But once shadows grew longer and I began to wait for Alex to come home, the trial began. The darker it grew outside the more I wanted the warmth and comfort of food. My sense of smell became incredibly acute and I could tell what the neighbors a block away were having for dinner. I could barely stand to be in the same room as food and often had to go away while Alex was eating. My tongue felt grainy and tasted sour and no amount of water could make it go away. I realized how much psychological comfort dinner provided and how tied it was with getting to see your partner after work. I realized that dinner was the equivalent of a long, luxurious sigh appreciating the fact that the workday is over and it’s time to rest. Not being able to participate, I felt powerfully alone and disconnected from the world, a stranger peering through the cozy windows of another’s house.
While this diet is very good for dealing with issues mental or physical and being alone, it is not good for being around people. The weekends were very difficult and we found ourselves embarrassingly at a loss for what to do. It’s not that our whole life consists of eating and drinking, but that the two activities are essential backgrounds for so many other things. We couldn’t see other people because eventually they’d want to share a meal, and our usual long weekend walks just weren’t as fun now that we couldn’t stop for an ice cream or a drink along the way somewhere. The only thing that seemed to gain value through these couple of weeks were movies. They were the few happy hours when I could fully stop thinking about eating and be transported to a different world.
By day 5 of drinking only the ‘lemonade’ I started to hate it. Water was fine and I didn’t really feel hunger, but the lemonade was harder and harder to get down. So I started to experiment, watering it down or trying to skip one of the bottles. This was a mistake. While drinking lemonade I didn’t feel hunger, and although it didn’t seem filling, it was doing its job. As soon as I stopped drinking as much as I was supposed to the hunger kicked back in tenfold and I started to feel sick. Everything I’d read about the cleanse told me that hunger was a sign that it was time to stop so I did. But easing back in three days earlier than planned in the end felt like a defeat.
While during the cleanse I felt great in the mornings after the 2nd day and had plenty of energy for athletic activities, at night I felt unwell, although the unwellness was more psychological. After starting to eat again, I felt no long-term benefits, even though I felt like I was eating more consciously and healthfully overall. One big negative is that this process kills your metabolism, and even though the first week I ate practically nothing, I put on weight every day. By the end of the week this unpleasant phenomenon stopped and I’ve been able to eat normally, but I still feel like my metabolism has not fully recovered.
Overall I feel that it was a worthy exercise in self-control and a good reminder about what a big role food plays in my life. I’ve kept two thirds of the weight I’d lost off, so that’s a nice bonus and it does help to curve bad habits. It is a good thing to do if you find yourself too addicted to a particular food, if you can’t stop eating cheese or sweets or bread for example. I think it is a good New Year’s or birthday resolution to kick start a healthier year. But I did not feel real long-term benefits. Perhaps they were too subtle or maybe I just didn’t do it long enough. But in my opinion, it is just as good if not better to do something easier weekly, such as deciding on a day where you eat only fruits and vegetables or drink fresh juices. It is also helpful to make a point of eating less meat, dairy and sugar the rest of the week. I’m glad I did it. I’m glad it’s over. And I would only recommend it for those who don’t have to be around other eating people all day long because that’s just sheer torture.
My goal was ten days, but I ended up doing seven with two days easing in and 3 days easing out, a total of 12 days of not eating solid food. The first day was really easy. There was so much food accumulated in my system that my body didn’t even miss not having much for a day. Besides, the first day I was allowed to eat fruits and vegetables so it really wasn’t too bad. Day two was considerably worse. I was allowed to have fruit and vegetable juice, but it was like going through withdrawal, which got worse as the day went on. When Alex came home and had his dinner of Spaghetti and Meatballs I thought I was going to cry or wrestle the meatball from his mouth, but I didn’t do either. Day three was painful, but already less so and by day four I felt great, at least in the morning.
When you’re not eating you realize how big a role food plays in your life. It is much more than three half-hour long meals a day. You structure your whole day around it both physically and psychologically whether you know it or not. I found it liberating not to have to worry about breakfast and lunch. Waking up in the morning was easier on an empty stomach and I sprung out of bed light as a dandelion spore and well rested. I enjoyed the ritual of squeezing the lemons and mixing in the syrup and pepper, knowing that I had all I needed for the rest of the day. I felt meditative, monk-like with a clear head and it was great to sit at the computer and write while sipping water, tea or my concoction. But once shadows grew longer and I began to wait for Alex to come home, the trial began. The darker it grew outside the more I wanted the warmth and comfort of food. My sense of smell became incredibly acute and I could tell what the neighbors a block away were having for dinner. I could barely stand to be in the same room as food and often had to go away while Alex was eating. My tongue felt grainy and tasted sour and no amount of water could make it go away. I realized how much psychological comfort dinner provided and how tied it was with getting to see your partner after work. I realized that dinner was the equivalent of a long, luxurious sigh appreciating the fact that the workday is over and it’s time to rest. Not being able to participate, I felt powerfully alone and disconnected from the world, a stranger peering through the cozy windows of another’s house.
While this diet is very good for dealing with issues mental or physical and being alone, it is not good for being around people. The weekends were very difficult and we found ourselves embarrassingly at a loss for what to do. It’s not that our whole life consists of eating and drinking, but that the two activities are essential backgrounds for so many other things. We couldn’t see other people because eventually they’d want to share a meal, and our usual long weekend walks just weren’t as fun now that we couldn’t stop for an ice cream or a drink along the way somewhere. The only thing that seemed to gain value through these couple of weeks were movies. They were the few happy hours when I could fully stop thinking about eating and be transported to a different world.
By day 5 of drinking only the ‘lemonade’ I started to hate it. Water was fine and I didn’t really feel hunger, but the lemonade was harder and harder to get down. So I started to experiment, watering it down or trying to skip one of the bottles. This was a mistake. While drinking lemonade I didn’t feel hunger, and although it didn’t seem filling, it was doing its job. As soon as I stopped drinking as much as I was supposed to the hunger kicked back in tenfold and I started to feel sick. Everything I’d read about the cleanse told me that hunger was a sign that it was time to stop so I did. But easing back in three days earlier than planned in the end felt like a defeat.
While during the cleanse I felt great in the mornings after the 2nd day and had plenty of energy for athletic activities, at night I felt unwell, although the unwellness was more psychological. After starting to eat again, I felt no long-term benefits, even though I felt like I was eating more consciously and healthfully overall. One big negative is that this process kills your metabolism, and even though the first week I ate practically nothing, I put on weight every day. By the end of the week this unpleasant phenomenon stopped and I’ve been able to eat normally, but I still feel like my metabolism has not fully recovered.
Overall I feel that it was a worthy exercise in self-control and a good reminder about what a big role food plays in my life. I’ve kept two thirds of the weight I’d lost off, so that’s a nice bonus and it does help to curve bad habits. It is a good thing to do if you find yourself too addicted to a particular food, if you can’t stop eating cheese or sweets or bread for example. I think it is a good New Year’s or birthday resolution to kick start a healthier year. But I did not feel real long-term benefits. Perhaps they were too subtle or maybe I just didn’t do it long enough. But in my opinion, it is just as good if not better to do something easier weekly, such as deciding on a day where you eat only fruits and vegetables or drink fresh juices. It is also helpful to make a point of eating less meat, dairy and sugar the rest of the week. I’m glad I did it. I’m glad it’s over. And I would only recommend it for those who don’t have to be around other eating people all day long because that’s just sheer torture.
No comments:
Post a Comment