The Smell of Sickness

bog_of_eternal_stench

The human sense of smell is often seen as insignificant, dismissed as a distant also-ran to our keen eyesight or sensitive hearing. But this sense is keener and more influential on our species than many people realize. (“The Hidden Power of Scent” by Josie Glausiusz, in Scientific American Mind, August/September 2008:38)

 

I decided on a little adventure! I was excited enough to be up at the same time as the ravens, and into a bowl of ground nuts with a handful of walnuts, a dob of raw sheep yogurt and a glass of home-brewed Illy coffee. Then I was away.

Blissfully unaware that I was to have a shocker of a realization before the early part of the afternoon. People! I’m a dog in a human body!

Okay, let me explain. I drove for 2 hours this morning for the Portarlington Celtic Festival. I got myself lost (that happens a LOT) so I didn’t arrive in town until I was ravenous. The air was clean, the sea, oh, the tang of the sea right up from the deep of the ocean. A short boat trip away from Tasmania, New Zealand and, really, the great Antarctic! Me? Straight to a cafe for eggs and coffee. That was fine. So far, I’m excited…

And everything’s fine.

I cross the road to the park. The major gathering of clans performers, market stalls and food vans. Festive. Bagpipes. Kilts!

I wandered, studying the stalls for something magically Celtic to spend my money on, perfectly prepared to go home penniless. There was nothing. Nothing extraordinary. I wandered and I listened to the pipers but could not get a signal on my measly old iPhone 4 so I have nothing to show you of any of it… besides, I’m just starting to get weird.

I’ve been at the gig for almost an hour, passing families and couples, musicians on their way to somewhere and those kitted out in their most exotic faux Celtic wear, their brogues, their tartan socks and yes, there was a sporran or two, when I realize how fucking uncomfortable I am. I’m in the company of another species and they SMELL WRONG.

I’d been excited! I thought:

kilt sean connery

But I got:

kilts fat guys

This is NOT judgmental. The smell wafted stronger and stronger as the crowd swelled. I was a wastrel, an urchin, among the portly. And the obese. Other than several people passing me with instrument cases slung across their backs, 90% of the people were really, really fat. And not in a glorious fat way that some people are. Because some people are really, really big but whatever they eat, it just males them sexy and curvy. No.

This was organ fat and blocked intestines and bowels that had not worked well for decades. It was milk of magnesia and built-up intestinal gas. Parasites and gut microbiome that had devastated entire healthy inner ecosystems. The vans sold Cornish pasties and sugary drinks, and pastry this and bun-that, each slathered in barbecue sauce or tomato sauce. And the lines at each van were monumental. And everyone wandering, or sitting with their legs spread, on caving-in plastic chairs, or smiling, pretending that this was grand, had food in their faces.

bad fats1

Darlings, is this the unexpected price one pays for being amostpaleo? That one’s olfactory senses become sniffer-doggish? Could we work an airport customs baggage line, do you think?

I just had to attend.

Unfortunately, just this once, I had not thought ahead. I had not packed a snack. So I lined up and bought a cardboard container of char-grilled salmon (shut up about its toxicity) with slaw. I paid and was just about to grab my in-case food when the woman serving looked at me as though I was quite mad.
“What?” I asked, smiling.
“You forgot the sauce,” she said, bemused at my stupidity; my obvious senility.
“Oh. Um…”
“Mayonnaise, here…” and she took back my container, squirting copious quantities of home-made mayo over everything. “There!” she said, proudly, moving onto her next victim.

I made it to my car and placed the offending package on the passenger seat. You know. Just in-fucking-case?

And there it sat, burning my nostrils with no name brand, genetically modified sunflower oil all the way home.

All the way back to the city I contemplated. I realized, that like pheromones, our bodies emit entire scent stories. I won’t make that mistake again. But… I was REALLY SAD that almost all those people were sick. If they knew it, they hid it, if they didn’t know… No, they knew. We’re not talking kids here. None of the people I am discussing would have been under 40. Really sad how slowly they are going to die.

 

Other links here and here

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Fck You Paleo Bread

I mean, really? Why did we start this in the first place? I know it has no grains but question… When is a seed not a grain? Turns out, that when it’s a nut! Nuts are fruit. So, and I’m very interested in your sourced knowledge of this, when is a seed paleo? I sat and thought about this for ages before hitting Google and then Wiki, and we have to be careful. The seeds of pumpkins are pepitas, yes? But the seeds and pips are not the same. You can eat the pips of guavas and passion fruit, but munch on the pip of an apricot and you’re in trouble (despite claims that have no grounding in science).

apricot cyanide

I mention all this because of substitution. The need for bread. We don’t. Just don’t. I mean, do what you want but the more we rely on somebody else cashing in the more rubbish in the landfill and not the compost bucket.

I gave in and bought a Nutribullet, though, and it’s bloody amazing! I chuck in kale, celery, golden beetroot, carrot, stuff still in the garden like beetroot tops, parsley, rocquet, and silver beet. Some macadamias, almonds, some avocado, chuck in tomato and, yes, a radish! And my BCAAs, ginger,  raw turmeric root a dash of cayenne and chili.

Or variations of that theme…

Add water to the limit, and POW! BAM! That’s serious soup.

I pour the goop into jars. Usually it’ll make two. I have all the fats I need with the nuts and avo, all the protein unless I’ve had a mega day at the gym when I’ll need eggs or meat.

It takes me all of 5 minutes to pick what I need, grab the stuff from the bench or the fridge, rough chop it and shove it down.

The paleo bread thing? Well, that’s just bread.

bread

An attitude moment that I don’t have to justify. Seems to me the internet is awash with paleo faux-desert/sweet recipe. Fools gold, lovelies. Berries in season, agreed. But… don’t take it from me, go Google paleo bread and grin.

Keep warm if you’re in Melbourne or the countryside, and keep up the Vitamin D with all this cloud.

Off to down a steak.

Bon apetit,

Ly x

 

Depression, Choice & PCOS

PCOS

What is PCOS? It’s polycystic ovary syndrome. The problem affects one in five women. That’s a lot. What causes it? Not my job to talk about that. This is a food blog. But. Someone I love is putting up with PCOS and, no, the contraceptive pill, for her, is not an option.

WEIGHT

Someone I love is 90 kilo. That should not be a problem because she is beautiful and very fit. But it is. Not because she might not be able to have babies. She either does or does not. It’s a woman’s choice. And I have a little more to say about that before I’m done today.

DEPRESSION

No the problem is that she feels so overwhelmed by the weight of her breasts and the back pain that comes with it that some days she’s depressed. Other days when she’s down is when the folks at the gym stare. I think they stare because she’s big and beautiful and is benchpressing HUGE weights. She thinks they’re judging her. I don’t know. She’s super fit.

More. Doctors judge her. She has been told she is borderline diabetic by one doctor only to be told by a sports physician that she is nowhere near that. Doctors, by the way, do 40 hours nutritional studies throughout their entire training. 40! Her hormones need fixing but nobody seems to know how to do that. On a side note why are women prescribed such weird and potentially carcinogenic medication as birth control? They tried it on men… Hardly anyone ever got breast or ovarian cancer when I was young. People dies of strokes and heart attacks and… well… death. Cancer is BIG business.

FITNESS

She is also overwhelmed by her own lack of self-esteem. She was my weight before this happened. She thinks of herself as lean but then she looks in the mirror.

She runs HIIT for overweight people and advises them on nutrition. They vomit. They lose weight. She cannot. How did it start? She took the pill. The second time she has done this. This is the second time the weight piled on and is immoveable.

SHAME

Why do I write this today? For those of you who have experienced bigotry for your size and those of you who have done it. For definitions of fat shaming. And because NOT ENOUGH research is being demanded by women to get this shit fixed.

Today is not about recipes. I’ll get back to that and I know I’ve been slack but, hey, I’ve just released another book and am writing yet another (2016/17) so bite me.

 

MOTHERHOOD

The other thing I want to mention (because so many mothers out there are also unloving of your bodies) is that nobody warned you, did they? That you have to forget sleep, that you will turn into the person giving orders, washing, missing meals and picking in between, that they’ll want your money, they’ll take your youth and then they’ll leave, or they won’t leave and SOME of you are still cooking for them. Before we get pregnant, and when we give birth, it’s all about the child, the divine little person we are bringing into this world. What a powerful thing it is. No. I love my kids but I know what happened to me when I had them. Can you please put your toys away? Can you put that back in the fridge? Have you got your lunch? Can you please be home by ten? Can we talk about this?

No. You will be called a nag. You will feel like your own mother. You will come to understand that you were lied to and will continue to be lied to. You will be stereotyped in advertising. It will be YOU cleaning the bathroom with that fucking grateful smile on your face.

washingpowder

 

THEN, when you want to get wild and sultry and back into the prowl what do they say? Hmm?

WOMEN

So, later today, or during the week, or right now, take another woman in your arms and tell her how wickedly interesting she is. Admire each other. Take a walk with each other and open up.

Oh, and have a read of The Elegance of the Hedgehog.

Bon apetit,

Ly x