paula deen
you've perhaps heard by now that the most cloying lard junkie on television, paula deen, has been living with type 2 diabetes for years while she's been shoveling her pedestrian "i think it needs more butter and more sugar" cuisine on our television-besotted masses. anthony bourdain (ever since i saw him with a tribe of aboriginals eating wild pig anus on his tv show i've known he's the baddest ass tv chef out there) months ago called her "the most dangerous person in america", and now it's been revealed she's a paid shill for a diabetes drug company, he's added he's "thinking of getting into the leg-breaking business, so I can profitably sell crutches later". anthony isn't wrong, and he of all people is capable of recognizing a pig's anus when he sees one.
i fear lost among all this, however, is the other half of why paula deen is such a heaping pile of pig parts. human bodies are not the solitary product of what's put into them. they are just as much the product of what we make out of them. which is to say, if all you do is totter between your living room sofa and your kitchen for another batch of hopeful diabetes, the cause of your diabetes is as much the tottering (as opposed to, say, getting out and taking a longer walk) as the teetering over your dietary precipice.
our bodies are not incapable of processing a certain amount of animal fat. in fact, it's my opinion that our bodies prefer to be processing a certain amount of animal fat. (at the risk of saying too much, my almost completely fat-free ex-wife has no better cholesterol ratings than i do to go with her chronic dry skin problems and persistent bowel difficulties and, yes, i do see both the irony and the coincidence). i'm quite sure it's the evolutionary reason we've come to enjoy the taste of it so much. same goes for sodium.
so why can't we see that the problem is not what but how much, for both our diet and our exercise? my 99 year old grandfathers ate what they preferred, and much of it included full-fat animal products from whole milk to every kind of sausage you can imagine. (i don't come by my taste for saumagen to go with my schweinshaxe by genetic accident). one used to put so much salt on his food that he had his own shaker at the table because his wife, my grandmother, grew tired of refilling the communal one. but both of my grandfathers were active to the point of what most people actually considered excess, which, to me, was merely to the point of whatever to which they were able and inclined. (the one retired when he was 85, and i'm still convinced he'd have lived to 110 if he had only worked until he was 95, something of which he appeared well capable). i learned by first-hand observation that they ate only and exactly as their bodies told them to eat, and no less just as surely as no more. when you're up at 4am to go to work, nobody is going to tell you at 7am when you stop back home for breakfast that you can't crush down twice as many cereal flakes into your bowl so as to be able to hold twice as much honey before you pour the cream you like over the top of them.
which reminds me... i'm out of shaw farm totally organic low-heat pasteurized whole milk in the quart glass bottles, and i need to head to dracut later to bag me several replacements. nope, i wasn't up at 4am, but i was out til midnight the other night playing flag football, and i used up what i had over my cheerios the next morning.
i fear lost among all this, however, is the other half of why paula deen is such a heaping pile of pig parts. human bodies are not the solitary product of what's put into them. they are just as much the product of what we make out of them. which is to say, if all you do is totter between your living room sofa and your kitchen for another batch of hopeful diabetes, the cause of your diabetes is as much the tottering (as opposed to, say, getting out and taking a longer walk) as the teetering over your dietary precipice.
our bodies are not incapable of processing a certain amount of animal fat. in fact, it's my opinion that our bodies prefer to be processing a certain amount of animal fat. (at the risk of saying too much, my almost completely fat-free ex-wife has no better cholesterol ratings than i do to go with her chronic dry skin problems and persistent bowel difficulties and, yes, i do see both the irony and the coincidence). i'm quite sure it's the evolutionary reason we've come to enjoy the taste of it so much. same goes for sodium.
so why can't we see that the problem is not what but how much, for both our diet and our exercise? my 99 year old grandfathers ate what they preferred, and much of it included full-fat animal products from whole milk to every kind of sausage you can imagine. (i don't come by my taste for saumagen to go with my schweinshaxe by genetic accident). one used to put so much salt on his food that he had his own shaker at the table because his wife, my grandmother, grew tired of refilling the communal one. but both of my grandfathers were active to the point of what most people actually considered excess, which, to me, was merely to the point of whatever to which they were able and inclined. (the one retired when he was 85, and i'm still convinced he'd have lived to 110 if he had only worked until he was 95, something of which he appeared well capable). i learned by first-hand observation that they ate only and exactly as their bodies told them to eat, and no less just as surely as no more. when you're up at 4am to go to work, nobody is going to tell you at 7am when you stop back home for breakfast that you can't crush down twice as many cereal flakes into your bowl so as to be able to hold twice as much honey before you pour the cream you like over the top of them.
which reminds me... i'm out of shaw farm totally organic low-heat pasteurized whole milk in the quart glass bottles, and i need to head to dracut later to bag me several replacements. nope, i wasn't up at 4am, but i was out til midnight the other night playing flag football, and i used up what i had over my cheerios the next morning.
posted by kad barma at 8:37 AM
3 Comments:
I don't know. I didn't talk about my Type II diabetes for several years.
I take the "leave the 99 to find the one lost chef" approach. But, then, I am often naive.
Regards — Cliff
You'd think a person who has knowingly, willingly, and repeatedly eaten a deep fried steak bomb would have more appreciation for poor Paula and her life's work! ;-)
It's called a "Steak Stick" and that's my point! Can't love Steak Sticks without loving what you have to do to work them off. ;-)
Post a Comment
Links to this post:
Create a Link
<< Home