I ask very little of the New York subway system. I want trains to come when they’re supposed to, I want them to not break down while I’m riding them, and I want to feel safe traveling from Point A to Point B. Sometimes we’re shoved up against some sweaty man’s wet armpit because we have no choice but to pack into the 6 train like sardines in a can, and other times we must endure the drunken mumblings and rants of fellow riders— this is all to be expected. Some disgusting humans even pick their noses and clip their nails on the train, which is almost forgivable knowing that those individuals will never be loved. But if there’s one thing I DESPISE, it’s stinking up the train with your food. Please, for the love of God, stop. Keep reading »
We’re all born with the ability to eat intuitively, to listen to our body’s needs, to eat nourishing foods when we’re hungry, to stop when we’re full. It’s our default setting; our natural state. Even just writing that out right now, it’s such a “duh” that I can’t believe how easy and common it is for people to lose this ability, but it is. I stopped eating intuitively when I was a kid. I can’t pinpoint one exact moment that my sense of hunger became more emotional than physical, but I remember lots of little moments that helped redefine my relationship with food:
- When I realized that eating half a box of Cheez-Its after school made me feel numb to the mean things my classmates had said to me that day.
- When my grandma literally stuffed cookies into my mouth while saying, “Don’t get fat.”
- When I started eating tons of refined carbs to self-medicate my ADD.
- When I learned to lean on food for emotional support.
And even beyond all that, I just genuinely love food. Always have. I view it as one of life’s great pleasures, but like any pleasure, overdoing it is a surefire way to take all the pleasure out of it. Keep reading »
When I decide it’s high time for me to procure myself some fast food French fries, the last (last!!!!!!) thing on my mind is their caloric content. No, when I decide that I done deserve some fries, I don’t care how many calories they’re gonna cost me, or where those calories are going. They are a treat, and why go sucking all the fun out of treats with things like nutrition facts and diet plans? Why, Burger King, why must you introduce “Satisfries,” with 40% less fat and 30% fewer calories than your regular fries? I mean, maybe the 70-calorie decrease makes more sense if Burger King fries are a staple of your everyday eating, but if you’re a once in a while, gotta-have-my-fries type like myself, why even bother? Especially when you consider that a small order of these new crinkle-cut fries will run you $1.89, as opposed to the $1.59 a small order of regular fries will cost you. My takeaway: for a difference of 70 calories, and a 19% markup, go for the regular fries. Just go for it. [Gothamist]
The US Department of Agriculture quietly announced on Friday that it had approved four Chinese poultry plants to ship processed chicken into the US. It’s no wonder it tried to sneak that news onto the eve of a long weekend, notes Bloomberg: China has a dodgy reputation for food safety, with repeated outbreaks of avian flu and the New York Times reports that Chinese-made chicken jerky recently killed hundreds of US dogs. So it’s a little worrying that these processing plants will operate without USDA inspectors, and the agency does not require point-of-origin labeling, so American consumers will not know where their chicken comes from. Read more at Newser…
Garance Doré is a fashion illustrator, and the wife of Sartorialist photographer Scott Schulman. She’ s also a style blogger with a loyal following, loved for her honest and rambling posts about all things fashion. Earlier this week, Dore posted an entry called “The Other Girls,” where she talked about the major disconnect between what actresses look like and what they supposedly eat on TV and in interviews.
The essay was prompted by comments she received after posting a video of her friends eating lunch one day. In the video, Dore and her friends abstain from eating dessert, and some of her readers took that to mean that they were depriving themselves to stay thin, accusing Doré of offering a twisted “image of femininity.”
But, argued Doré, she was only showing what her concept of reality is — the way it is for so many women for whom eating a huge slice of cheesecake or gorging on a basket of fries means hours and hours in the gym. Keep reading »
Diets, man! What a bitch. As a human with a particular fondness for bread, cheese, and meat and a diminutive frame that, presented with the opportunity, will take all of those calories, thank you very much, and keep them forever and ever, I am almost always on some sort of depressing leafy-greens-and-lean-protein restriction. For health, you know? I do it all for health. I’m cautiously assuming that Health is also the reason why Valentino Garavani, the Italian fashion designer formerly responsible for his eponymous house of Valentino and person maybe made of leather, has what strikes me as the saddest eating regimen of all time. Quoth a profile in Harper’s Bazaar:
I try to eat a simple diet: no sugar, no milk, no dairy except goat cheese, no gluten pasta, Bio Rice, no meat, some fish (not the ones with mercury), vegetables, no potatoes, no bread except rice crackers or grissini, one glass of red wine, sugarless sherbet, all sweets made with almond milk and xylitol sweetener, and one coffee a day.
I realize that some people really get off on exclusively consuming food items that are Good For You, and I aspire to one day have the good sense and self-control to be one of these people. I really do! But man, oh man, do I have the secondhand sads for Valentino right now. All that’s left for me to do is to have an extra meat and cheese sandwich today in his honor. [The Gloss]