Save the Internet

Whoa, two days in a row without writing about food… but this is important, folks. Apparently, large corporations have been putting pressure on the government to make the internet work for large businesses so that they have access to faster speed, and individuals with websites will have to pay them astronomical fees in order for their sites to load at a reasonable speed. This could mean the end of blogs, personal websites, and much of the personal communication and joy we get out of the internet.

Read all about this here, and let your friends know.

But while we still have the rights to use this wonderful democratic tool, the Internet, we’ll still be talking about organic, healthy, delicious food. Tomorrow, we’ll be back on our scheduled program; expect zuccini.

Some Angry Words about Basic Behavioral Rules

I was planning to post something today about zuccini. But this morning I encountered something that enraged me to no end, and just had to say something about it.

Well, I went on my morning walk by the Tel Aviv beach, and could not believe my eyes. The entire beach – all the way from Tel Aviv to Jaffa – was full of unbelievable amounts of trash. Food, disposable plates and cups, utensils, bags and wrappers. You could barely see the grass. Of course, this must be the aftermath of Lag Ba’Omer, the bonfire holiday. Folks went to the beach, had their bonfires, roasted meat and potatoes and onions, and simply went home, leaving all their crap behind and not even thinking of picking it up.

This kind of behavior drives me nuts.

You know, when we came back to Tel Aviv from Berkeley, it took us a while to realize there was no infrastructure for recycling, save for a few areas for plastic bottles. No easy way to compost in the city, either. We don’t live well with that, and when we complain, we’re seen as a couple of whinebags. But throwing away your trash, rather than putting it in a plastic bag and disposing of it using the garbage cans is a violation of the most basic rules of behavior each and every one of the beach partyers was taught in kindergarten. It’s amazing to think of all these folks who bothered to shower, shave and put on some fragrant skin lotion before going to the party, then ate and drank and littered around like total pigs and couldn’t even see the irony of what they were doing.

Some folks might make an argument along the multicultural lines; this is, after all, the Middle East. But I would think that not littering, and using a garbage can, is such a basic norm. I mean, if those folks were presented with an array of the stuff they threw around, they’d be disgusted. I know, because I spent half of my morning walk picking after them. Bottles and bottles of corporate soft drinks. Half eaten nasty looking sausages. Packets of cigarrettes (do smokers realize how vile these things look and smell? surely they don’t, otherwise why would they do it?). And pools of vomit everywhere. Overdrinking and vomiting has to be one of the least classy forms of human self-expression. Nevertheless, folks overdrink and vomit. Everyone would agree that the aftermath of the bonfire craziness is hideous and gross. Nevertheless, it is us, humans, Tel Aviv residents, who created it. It is our waste that we now deem gross. Am I the only person who’s reflecting on that this morning?

I expect that, if folks gave any thought at all to what they were doing, they thought that the city somehow “owes” them something, and that the garbage workers will zealously pick after them in the morning, whistling a cheerful tune. Well, newsflash, littering filthy people: I talked to the garbage people this morning, and they were not amused by all the crap you left around. Nor were they paid extra this morning for clearing your hideous mess. How nice that we can dehumanize folks working to keep our city clean and just assume that, like androids, they will shovel away, without feeling, all the disgusting crap we leave behind. Yes, the city employs people to clean it. It’s great. It does not absolve any of us from the personal responsibilities of cleaning up after ourselves, same as we do in our homes.

The amazing thing was that the usual morning crowd – the folks walking and jogging on the beach – just went on as normal. Our city is defiled, our sea is filthy, but let that not stop our smug yuppie selves from working on our physique this morning. Does no one understand that, on a filthy planet, a neat trim body is completely meaningless?

Because, and here’s where this is somehow related to food, everything is connected, folks. Not in the New Agey, cosmic sense of the word. In the most daily and obvious way. The gross plastic plates and bags you leave behind find their way to the shore, where they are eaten by fish, who get sick, and then you eat them, and get sick too. They are eaten by birds who fly above the shore. They emit a smell of decay which influences the animal population on the beach, as well as the air we breathe. You are directly influenced by everything you did last night to rape Mother Earth, and the small strip of Her flesh which we call our city’s beach. Funny, tonight the city is planning to hold a giant fireworks event on the beach. We’ll all be sitting there, soaking in yesterday’s filth, and enjoying the lights on the giant skies, which will numb our brains and hearts and help us forget our disregard for the small piece of Earth we live on. Dammit, shame on us. Shame on us.

What should you do then?

1) If you walk on the Tel Aviv beach this morning, or anywhere, actually, any morning – for heaven’s sake, pick up a plastic bag (the littering people left plenty of those lying around) and clean some. You don’t have to leave the place sparkling clean. But help a bit. If everyone did that this morning, the beach would be clean in no time.

2) Write a letter to your city, or mine, about the salaries for garbage disposal folks. Their important services are not appreciated as much as they should be, and they don’t get extra bonuses for days when the city is filthy. This is no excuse for the citizens’ behavior, of course, but it’s annoying and should be rectified.

3) If you see folks littering around, don’t be afraid that someone will think you a sanctimonious fart if you say something. Speak up. It’s your city they’re raping and degrading. You have a right and an obligation to say something.

4) Organize some friends and go clean a trail, or a section of your city. You don’t have to be a bleeding heart left-wing yuppie to do this. You just need to have a bit of care about where you live.

Mostly, though, you should think. You should let those neurons work and give the minimum amount of thought to where your stuff ends up and what happens to it. Of course, if we all did this, we’d have the infrastructure for recycling, and many well-paid city workers to help us do it efficiently. But even if not, in the very least, our beach would not be a huge junkyard, and we wouldn’t put the beautiful words of Nathan Alterman, the “white city” poet, to shame.

Carrot Season

Apparently, it’s carrot season at Chubeza. We get lots and lots of wonderful, intense orange carrots every week. They come with the leaves (and we already know what to do with those). I think all this carrot consumption may have actually affected my eyesight; my optometrist reports that my prescription has gone down. Whether it’s due to the carrot or not, I have no idea; but the fact is that carrots pack an enormous amount of vitamin A, in the form of beta-carotene, which is said to improve night vision. Carrots also contain a variety of anti-cancer agents, and are also useful for preventing and treating lung inflammation.

In Chinese medicine, carrots are associated with the earth element, and beneficial for the spleen – which means, in Western anatomy, that they assist digestion as well as muscular issues.

And what better way to cook lots of carrots than a day when one’s loved one falls sick? Chad’s immune system, alas, leaves much to be desired, and he really feels awful today. His throat hurts, his sinuses hurt, his nose is leaking – and he feels drowsy and says extremely funny things. I don’t think he means to say them. They come out funny because of the fever.

Warming food is good for situations such as this, and the carrot pairs well with ginger to create an old favorite – carrot ginger soup. This version doesn’t have any cream, which, in Chinese medicine, increases dampness in the body (and we have plenty of that here, thank you very much). It does, however, have browned onions and garlic, and some fun Middle Eastern spices. Naturally, it can be made with the addition of potatoes, yams, or squash, if you so desire; our decision to be carrot purists today stems from the dry fact that we already had potatoes today, and that yams were not in this week’s box. I hope you enjoy the soup, and post your own versions of this favorite, if you like.

Middle Eastern Carrot Ginger Soup

10 nice organic carrots
a 3” or 4” chunk of ginger
1 very large onion
half a garlic bulb
1 tsp of the following: curcum, cumin, nutmeg, cinnamon (yes, trust me on this).
2 quarts of water or vegetable broth (you could make the broth out of the carrot leaves, thus using the entire vegetable and not letting nice leaves go to waste).

We start the way my grandmother started many of her culinary marvels: we peel and slice each garlic clove (this can help with the peeling, and believe me, it really works), we slice the onion into rings, we splash the bottom of a large pot with good olive oil, and we fry the onions and garlic. No “sauteeing” here. The stuff needs to be brown and fragrant. When it is, and there’s a lovely smell in the kitchen, we pour some broth or water into the pan and start deglazing. This may seem silly or unnecessary, but it improves the taste of the soup to no end. Scrape the brown stuff in the bottom of the pot, using a wooden spoon. It’ll be very good with the broth.

When you’re done scraping, add the rest of the liquid, and the carrots, and the ginger, and the spices, and let cook for about 30 minutes. Then, we do the following nifty thing: using a straining spoon, we go fishing. That’s right. We fish out all the carrots and ginger, and stick them in the blender, with a bit of the broth. We puree the carrots and ginger, and return them to the pot, mixing the puree with the broth. Now, we just sprinkle a bit of parsley on top, and we’re done. I hope Chad enjoys it and feels well!

University Food Court: A Microcosm of the Restaurant Industry?

Most of our days are spent at the Tel Aviv University campus. Which means we eat there. Often, we bring our own lunches – after having organic vegetables at home, nothing else tastes quite the same – but sometimes we don’t, and we’re presented with quite a dazzling array of choices.

Campus food has developed quite a bit since when I was a student. I remember the law school cafeteria had cheese, egg and tuna sandwiches; the central restaurant had cheap homelike food (meat, various carb options, and some cooked vegetables). In my later days there, there were coffee carts everywhere in addition to the restaurants, and one of the restaurants, in the education department building, served antipasti and couscous. In Berkeley, we were surrounded by a lot of inexpensive restaurants, some of which were very healthy and very tasty.

Tel Aviv University offers quite a lot of different food stalls. The central food court is a microcosm of the food industry, and, accordingly, it ; McDonalds have a restaurant there which, regrettably, has become quite a favorite with the students. It’s quick, and it offers something it calls “California salad” which is basically lifeless iceberg lettuce with some chicken on top. Next door to McDonalds is a local pseudo-Thai chain called Lemon Grass. Calling it Thai is almost a capital offense. It actually offers hideous sushi and other pan-Asian, fake, industrialized things.

Some chains are not that evil. The old Tel Aviv cafe, Alexander, started a new venture called Green Leaves, a salad bar on campus. Each person chooses which vegetables, whole grains, antipasti, cheeses and other fun ingredients go in the salad. Obviously, this option isn’t perfect, either; the vegetables are pre-cut, and the plastic containers can’t be recycled anywhere. But it’s a viable option.

The cafeteria also offers the usual fare of fish, carbs and cooked vegetables, as well as fresh pasta. The students’ metabolism never ceases to amaze me; having pasta with cream sauce day after day is something I can no longer deal with.

Coffee culture in Israel is pretty big, and each of the cafeterias will serve you a very decent cup of coffee, or a nice selection of herbal teas. Two places offer blended/squeezed juices, also a good breakfast option.

Finally, there is the price. A meal in the cafeteria costs an average of 20 to 30 NIS – between 5 and 7 dollars (equivalent to UC Berkeley prices, but with the salaries here so much lower, certainly something to consider). While we’re happy to visit the salad man once in a while, this is certainly not something that a student household can deal with on a daily basis. Nevertheless, I don’t see students with brown sandwich bags or containers from home; In a culture with such culinary savvy, it’s surprising that students don’t take time to relax from their books and cook for themselves.

Azuki Bean Soup

Beans. Now that’s a touchy subject. Beans have been a bit maligned in the last decades’ diet fads, particularly low-carb regimes; they defy the neat and tidy categorization of food that’s “good for you” because it either has “just carbs” or, for folks who have more purist tendencies, “just protein”. They don’t allow you to neatly separate starch from protein; they deceive us. Why, cries the low-carb dieter, have we been told since childhood that beans are a good source of protein? They have so many carbs. More than protein. In fact, their composition is not all that different from whole grains. We can’t have them. Let’s bite into some more red meat.

No offense to the low-carb folks – and I know these regimes work really well for some folks – but beans are wonderful food. Yes, like many other foods, they contain a mixture of carbs and proteins. And also various vitamins, and minerals, and antioxidants. And they come in so many varieties, and are so versatile, and tasty.

The other common complaint against beans is their contribution to, well, the air quality in the room. Many folks suffer from flatulence after eating beans, particularly the larger varieties. Several pieces of advice have been offered for this solution; eating only fermented beans, soaking the beans well before cooking them (always a good idea as it shortens the cooking time), taking enzymes with the beans. I find that what works for me is, usually, eating beans on their own, or, if absolutely necessary, with just one type of whole grain. Combining beans with grains works better with the smaller types of beans, like lentils, mung beans and azuki beans; the larger ones I try to eat by themselves.

The following soup – all complete with this week’s selection of chubeza vegetables – is a great showcase for a tiny red bean – the azuki bean. Used extensively in Asian cooking as sweet red bean paste, azuki is rich in protein, as well as in iron, calcium and potassium (good for foot cramps). This nontraditional way of serving it has a soothing, earthy flavor, and works on its own as a soup or a hearty stew.

Azuki Bean Soup

2 cups azuki beans, preferrably pre-soaked in water for about 2-3 hours
3 carrots
3 zuccinis
2 turnips
1 beet
2 quarts of water or vegetable broth
1 garlic bulb
2 bay leaves
optional: 2 tablespoons of miso soup

If beans have been soaked, discard the water. Slice all vegetables into large, rustic cubes. Place them in a big pot with the water or vegetable broth, garlic and bay leaves, and bring to a boil. Then, cover the pot and let simmer for about an hour. If you wish, mix in two heaping tablespoons of miso at the end of cooking. If not sensitive to food combinations or wheat, eat with thick slices of whole wheat bread, or on top of mashed potatoes.

Sweet and Savory Sesame

The other day, a few of us were having lunch at a Tel Aviv cafe. One of us was telling a story about her grandfather, originally from Russia, who can’t stand a few local foods, such as Tchina. A great wave of sadness washed over the table. “Life without tchina“, mumbled another friend. “Fancy that. How sad”.

Yes, we Israelis love our sesame. We like it on our bread crust, we like it as sweet halvaof various flavors, we use it to coat our schnitzels (breaded chicken meat) – but most of all, we love it as that fabulous paste, out of which we make a dip, a sauce or a spread, according to taste. Americans call this divine paste “tahini”, which has always made me giggle; the word tchina comes from the verb litchon, to grind. And, indeed, raw tchina is nothing more than ground sesame seeds.

I confess I’m not a big fan of halva, though Chad loves it very much and always keeps a box of a local, Jaffa-made variety, that looks like an old lady’s hair. I’ve given up sweets, and I don’t really miss them all that much. My fandom of sesame is almost entirely due to the fantastic tchina I eat everywhere.

There is, however, one exception; the wonderful and crumbly tchina cookies I tasted, for the first time, at YAFA – a little cafe/bookstore in central Jaffa, and our local peace oasis. YAFA is devoted to the understanding between Jews and Palestinians, offers a variety of interesting books about the Middle East, and hosts an impressive curriculum of classes in spoken and literary Arabic. They also serve fragrant herbal tea, accompanied by these little delicacies. After tasting them in the company of my dear pals Shachar and Amit, we all sought to recreate them; Amit, who is vegan, loves them and makes them often to our delight. The recipe I’m posting today, however, has a few small changes, which I think improve the cookie’s rich texture and allows vegans to skip the use of margarine (yuck).

The following two recipes – one for stir-fried vegetables with tchina, the other for the cookies – are my entries for a fun event, organized by Barbara at Tigers and Strawberries, called The Spice is Right: Sweet or Savory? I guess sesame, as well as sesame paste, are spices but also ingredients, and that’s how they’re used in these recipes. Enjoy.

Stir-Fried Vegetables and Tofu with Tchina Sauce

1 tablespoon olive or canola oil
1 package extra-firm tofu
4 garlic cloves
3 carrots
3 zuccini
1 package forest mushrooms, or fresh shiitake, or dried, pre-soaked shiitake
5-6 large leaves of kale or chard
1 inch piece of peeled and chopped or grated ginger
4-5 tablespoons soy sauce
2 tablespoons raw tchina

black pepper or chilli flakes to taste

Mix soy sauce and tchina; cut tofu into 1/2 inch cubes and soak in the mix. Chop all vegetables into 1-inch cubes, and tea the kale or chard to large but edible pieces.
While tofu is happily soaking, heat up the oil in a large wok. When the wok is very hot, add garlic cloves and ginger, and stir a bit until fragrant. Then, add the vegetables: first the carrots, then the soy-tchina sauce from the tofu (keep the tofu aside for a while). Let the carrots sit in the wok a bit until they start to soften, then add the zuccini, mushrooms, tofu, and finally the kale. Add black pepper or chili flakes to taste and enjoy.

Tchina Cookies with COconut Milk and Spices

1/2 cup raw tchina
1 1/2 cups whole wheat or whole rice flour (I used the latter)
5 tablespoons coconut milk
4 tablespoons canola oil
1 teaspoon of each: cinnamon, ground clove, nutmeg
3 heaped tablespoons brown sugar (optional)

Heat oven to 180 degrees celsius. Mix all ingredients in a bowl. Knead to a dough. The dough comes out crumbly and a bit on the dry side, so do not be alarmed; if it’s very dry, add some more coconut milk or tchina. Now, make small (less than 1 inch) cookies; due to the dough consistency, you can’t exactly roll it, but rather squeeze it into a little ball. If you want to go fancy, one of these cookie presses might come in handy, will make your life easier, and your cookies prettier. Amit has one; yet another kitchen appliance which seems to be a refugee from the 1970s and works like a charm. Place on baking sheet and bake for about ten to fifteen minutes. Remove when cookies are slightly golden and no longer soft, but before they brown (they don’t taste as good when very brown). Consume with herbal tea or fragrant Turkish coffee.

Yasai Soba

(pic on its way)

The noodle craving is still on, and I’m contemplating the possibility of reproducing a household favorite of us: Yasai Soba.

It appears that noodle soup is something everybody likes; every culture has some version of it. Soba, a noodle made out of buckwheat and wheat, is a particularly delightful and healthy way of consuming noodles. Slimmer and browner than its big sister, the Udon noodle, Soba pleasantly slips through your throat and makes you feel warm and happy.

In our favorite vegan Japanese restaurant in Berkeley, Cha Ya, you can get two types of fabulous Soba soup: sansai soba, comprised of wild mountain vegetables and seaweed, and yasai soba, based on cooked vegetables which seem to be a tad more mundane in the Western world. Both versions are comprised of hot vegetable broth with soy sauce; the nonvegan versions use fish broth. The noodles, and delicately sliced and steamed vegetables, are decoratively placed in the bowl, and the soup is eaten with both a spoon and chopsticks.

As you’ll see from this recipe, the wheat-free, vegan adjustments are not difficult. As to the noodles, I’ve had good experience with soba from Eden Foods, but apparently other brands, like Clearspring carry it as well. Buckwheat, it turns out, is not a grain; it’s a fruit seed and a distant relative of sorrel and rhubarb. It offers a wealth of benefits, including anticancerous nutrients and fiber.

As to the broth, as you’ll see, this version of the soup uses shiitake mushrooms (which are anti-inflammatory and very good for your immune system), and the soaking water makes wonderful broth, particularly when mixed with Tamari soy sauce.

The vegetables, naturally, can change, depending on what’s out there in the market. This version sports carrots, turnips, potatoes, wild beet leaves, shiitake mushrooms, and extra-firm tofu.

Ingredients:
A package of soba noodles
10-15 dried shiitake mushrooms
4 carrots
3 turnips
4 large manguld (wild beet) leaves (chards also ok).
A few pieces of wakame seaweed
2 small potatoes
1 package of extra-firm tofu
1 cup Tamari soy sauce
4 cups water

We start by boiling the water and soaking the shiitake mushrooms in it. This needs to stand for, say 15 minutes at least, and the more it stands, the fluffier and softer your mushrooms and the richer your broth.
While this is going on, two things need to happen: the tofu needs to spend some time in the soy sauce, and the vegetables need to be steamed. Slice the tofu and place it in the tamari sauce for a while (you can dilute it in water, or in some tablespoons of the mushroom liquid). Also, slice the carrots, turnips and potatoes, and tear large pieces out of the manguld leaves. Place all these folks (except the wakame) in a steaming basket, and steam for about 30 minutes or until the vegetables are soft, but still have personality.
When the mushrooms have softened to your liking, strain, keep the liquid, and carefully slice them in pretty, thick slices. Save the mushrooms and steamed vegetables.
Pour the shiitake liquid into a large pot, and add the tamari sauce (without the tofu). Add soba noodles and cook for ten minutes or so, or until the soba is soft and slurpable. Then, using a straining spoon, place some noodles at the bottom of large, fun bowls. Arrange the vegetables and tofu prettily on top of the vegetables, then pour the hot soup to cover everything. Serve with chopsticks and a spoon. Enjoy!

Book Review: You Are What You Eat, by Gillian McKeith

It’s interesting to see the extent to which the food celebrity industry has captivated our lives. I suppose the best examples for our fascination with the combination of food and celebrities is The Food Network, featuring such figures as Rachael Ray, Alton Brown and others. We like celebrities, and we like food; many of these folks have websites, and magazines, and sell products. I’ve often asked myself how their literature would fare had they not enjoyed celebrity status, and recently, I had a chance to find out.

A few months ago, as part of my project of getting back on the holistic nutrition wagon, I bought myself Gillian McKeith’s book You Are What You Eat. I had no idea she was a celebrity and had no interest in it. Only after reading a good part of the book did I find out that she’s quite a controversial celebrity in England, with her very own TV show by the same name. Her website offers additional information about her various enterprises.

McKeith is Scottish in origin, lived in the States for a while, and is a holistic nutritionist. One of the more controversial features of her biography is her constant and irritating use of the title PhD, which she obtained from the unaccredited Clayton College. I must confess I’m bothered by this, but not for the same reasons that the medical orthodoxy is. Yes, I happen to know firsthand how much work goes into a PhD from an established academic institute, but the usage of the title in itself doesn’t annoy me nearly as much as what this says about a society which does not listen to anyone UNLESS they have a PhD next to their name. It is disappointing that McKeith feels the need to buy into this sad state of affairs by calling herself “Dr. Gillian” and “Dr. McKeith” almost every single page – and it’s particularly disappointing in light of the fact that she actually has many great things to say, and the book is really a very good and readable resource.

One of the book’s great strengths is the wealth of information it manages to convey in a cool, hip, magazine-like format. The colorful pages and beautiful vegetable and fruit photography makes one enthusiastic about healthy food and helps the readers get through quite a lot of details, advice, and regimes. This is important, because nutrition books are not often this fun. And, if you manage to ignore the personality cult and celebrity hype – and it’s possible – it makes for a very enjoyable read.

McKeith starts the book by providing several tools for self assessment. These are, to a great extent, based on tongue diagnosis principles from Traditional Chinese medicine. The book does not go into the difficult energetic terminology of Chinese medicine; none of the Zang Fu intricacies are mentioned, and the Five Elements are only hinted at. The book easily translates some of the diagnostics to Western anatomy, in an easy, down-to-earth manner. It’s not as precise, of course, as getting a diagnosis from a Chinese Medicine person, but it certainly provides layfolk with a wealth of tools to figure out why they feel the way they feel.

The book is also helpful in rejecting fad diets and in emphasizing the importance of variety and moderation. Extreme low-carb regimes are not encouraged, but whole grains and complex carbs are emphasized, and so are food combinations (particularly for folks suffering from digestive issues). Extreme low-fat regimes are also rejected, and McKeith recommends eating healthy fats, like avocados and nuts, as well as using Omega-3 supplements. In general, the plan is built on a wealth of natural foods: vegetables, fruit, whole grains, beans, nuts and seeds, seaweeds, goat dairy and yogurt (McKeith warns against too much consumption of cow dairy), occasional eggs, fish and chicken. She is an advocate of juices, but not at the expense of eating whole food with fiber. She also recommends a series of supplements: certain vitamins, good bacteria for colon health, green foods, and certain herbs for certain conditions. All this advice has to be balanced by mild exercise; she recommends picking something that would be fun, like walking, yoga, tai chi, pilates, trampoline hopping, or anything at all one would find enjoyable and not burdensome.

McKeith’s advice is geared towards overall health; she has recommendations for PMS, menopause symptoms, digestive issues, stress, hair, skin and nails, and – as one would expect – weight loss. The book also contains a very gentle and mild cleansing regime, which I tried a couple of months ago. It’s built on juices, salad and vegetable broth or miso soup, and truly works wonders. This cleanse is followed by an example of a seven-week plan. The recipes included in the book are, well, not fantastic; but with very little effort and some creativity, one can come up with delicious recipes containing the various natural foods featured in the book.

Some of the advice, I believe, is very specialized for a British readership. McKeith emphasizes the problems with overconsumption of alcohol and directs her criticism at pub culture. For an Israeli audience, I believe, that would be less of an issue (overeating would be a bigger problem). Also, she criticizes diets composed of mainly cooked foods and advocates a good balance between cooked and raw. In Israel, and in California, that would not be so much of a problem, though I imagine, in the British cold climate, folks tend to eat more warm and cooked foods.

The raw food recommendation, by the way, is a deviation from the traditional Chinese diet recommendations, which many holistic nutritionists like McKeith are modifying these days, arguing (quite plausibly) that the Chinese tendency to cook everything stemmed from the poor sanitation conditions in the times of the Yellow Emperor, when the seminal Yellow Emperor’s Classic of Internal Medicine was compiled.

All in all, the book makes a very good and lively read, and provides a lot of valuable advice both to beginners and to folks who want to refresh good nutrition principles. If you can get over the personality worship and the controversial PhD issue – and I’m sure you can – you’ll find this a helpful and entertaining companion on your journey towards good eating and good health.

What’s the Deal About Wheat Intolerance?

(photo from here)

There is so much talk about wheat and gluten these days. Or perhaps I hear more of it because it’s interesting to me. Various conflicting opinions are offered. Websites and information geared at food intolerant folks tend to emphasize how common the symptoms are – 15% of the population is estimated to be sensitive to either gluten or another component in wheat, and 33% to yeast, which composes most of the bread we eat. On the other hand, the British Nutrition Foundation reports that wheat intolerance is very uncommon. Naturally, none of these sites is unbiased, and as with other food issues, this one is highly political. Because wheat is a food staple and generates much income for the middlemen in the process of transferring it from the grower to the customer. For more info on these matters, do visit Parke Wilde’s excellent blog, US Food Policy. But let’s focus on wheat, for a minute.

There are a number of issues that could lead to bad symptoms when responding to bread, pasta and similar foods. It’s important to distinguish them, though in real life it may not be that easy.

1. Wheat Allergy, like other food allergies, refers to immediate and drastic responses to the consumption of wheat, which could include anything from hives to vomiting to swelling to loss of consciousness. Read more about how to test for food allergies.

2. Wheat sensitivity, or intolerance, is apparently less drastic and much more common. The sensitivity could be an outcome of any of the following reasons:

(a) Gluten intolerance, with celiac being the most severe form. Celiac can be tested for, and apparently has been identified as a genetic problem and related to autoimmune diseases. Gluten is the protein which makes bread elastic and fluffy. Celiac, at its worst, can be extremely dangerous and lead to death.

(b) Yeast intolerance, which is sometimes confused with wheat intolerance, because the main way we consume wheat is through bread with yeast. Yeast infections of various kinds often involve the growth of unhealthy yeast in the colon, with candida being quite notorious in causing digestive problems, bloating, gas, fatigue and other symptoms. Candida problems, and other yeast related issues, are extremely difficult to diagnose, and conventional Western medicine will usually not be quick to detect and acknowledge them. One way nutritionists identify candida is using screening questionnaires, which can point them to a probability that the cause of suffering has to do with yeast. Here’s one such questionnaire, from the informative website of Donna Gates, author of the well-researched and helpful book The Body Ecology Diet.

(c) Intolerance to other components of wheat. The wheat used all over the world nowadays is propagated by an extremely wealthy group of agribusinesses; and, as we now know, this was not always the case. In the attempt to modify wheat so that it can be easily grown in gargantual quantities, wheat was breeded and treated in certain ways which led it to become resilient and easily grown. Some folks may not respond well to these ways, and sometimes the intolerance emerges particularly from the fact that wheat has become so uniform and common as to make other forms of ancient wheat, like kamut and spelt, quite rare.

(d) Sometiems, the intolerance is not to wheat in itself, but to the various pesticides wheat is sprayed with. Obviously, this problem is not unique to wheat. The issue here is that the huge amounts in which wheat is grown probably involves economic considerations in choosing these pesticides. Again, in these issues it’s difficult to find an unbiased opinion.

What’s the deal, then? Are you sensitive to wheat or not? If one feels symptoms such as stomach ache, bloating, gas, abdominal discomfort, fatigue and extreme changes in weight, as well as cravings for sugar and starch, one should definitely seek the advice of both a doctor and a good holistic nutritionist. The latter will probably help you get on an elimination diet, which will help you learn more about the foods that agree and do not agree with you. Even if you are not sensitive to wheat, it’s probably a good idea to vary your diet with various types of grain, as each of them offers different nutritional components.

Finally, to learn more about food intolerance, and digestive health in general, do read Elizabeth Lipsky’s excellent book Digestive Wellness. It’s a very good resource on various health issues and offers very helpful advice.

Brown Rice Pasta with Greens and Mushrooms

Sometime in the early nineties, Israel went through a culinary revolution; gone were the awful salty, processed restaurant dishes always covered by a blanket of cheap, fat cheese. All of a sudden, we all became gourmets. And then came a succession of trendy foods, headed by pasta. One day, everyone knew that we had been cooking our pasta, which we had wrongly called “macaroni”, for too long, and it had to be al dente; fresh ingredients were added and eradicated the canned tomato paste regime.

But before we started counting our blessings and saying good riddance to the awful food we’d been eating, we took things to the other extreme; we became finicky, snobbish gourmets, establishing proper rules and regulations for even the simplest comfort foods. Now we’re all experts; we know which ingredients are used in which area of Italy, and what wine to serve with our pasta. But – y’know – sometimes you just want to eat a fun bowl of fine noodles, and not obsess about it.

Which is how the following recipe came about. We’re both exhausted from numerous work issues and social engagements which, while fun, took a toll on our sleeping and relaxing time. Today we felt like putting our house in order and cleaning it, and having a nice bowl of pasta. Fortunately, I had anticipated this craving and bought fabulous and healthful brown rice pasta.

Attention, all ye celiac folk, gluten-avoiding gents, wheat-intolerant ladies: there is excellent-tasting brown rice pasta out there. And the good people of Tinkyada make it for us. And it’s not devastatingly expensive. Naturally, it’s always best to actually have brown rice rather than pasta; but this stuff is big fun, and it allows me to enjoy an old favorite without suffering the repercussions (one of these days I’ll post some more info about the strange world of sensitivity to wheat). You can make the following recipe with their product, or with any whole grain or white (insert health-freak-shudder here) pasta of your choice. It involves lots and lots of greens, organic crushed tomatoes, sliced champignon mushrooms, lots of herbs, and much garlic. Serves two tired, grumpy folks, and restores their good spirits.

1 package (340 grams, I think) of Tinkyada brown rice pasta – I like the vegetable fusilli
4 cups of coarsely chopped kale, beet greens or Swiss chards
1 cup of organic crushed tomatoes
10 champignon mushrooms, thinly sliced
6 garlic cloves
3 hearty handfuls of chopped basil, parsley, or oregano

Boil about a liter of water in a large pot. While you wait for it to boil, heat up a large wok. When it almost smokes, add chopped garlic. After a minute or two, before the garlic becomes brown, add in the mushrooms. Cook a bit, then add the greens and stir around. Wait for them to slightly wilt, then put in the crushed tomatoes and about 1/2 a glass of water. Then add the herbs. Cook until sauce thickens and the greens’ stalks are chewable but not hard.

By now, the water is probably boiling. Add a tablespoon of herb salt and the pasta, stirring often to avoid stickiness. Cook to desired consistency, then drain.

Now, since this is a homey recipe, with no pretensions of authenticity, add the drained pasta to the wok and stir with sauce until it coats the noodles. Put in deep bowls and eat to your heart’s content.