Since beginning Nutritional Therapy training I’ve delighted in learning the evaluation points for various “nutritional opportunities.” I spend my bathroom free time thinking of ways to inspire (er, force) conversations about estrogen dominance, digestive bitters and misguided nutritional dogma with anyone and everyone. On an unrelated note, why am I not being invited to any parties lately?
My spark-a-convo MO is super sophisticated. I generally shake my head and snort real annoyed-like while saying things like “whole grains” and “low fat.” (I call this “targeted scoffing.”) I’ve got a few more ideas that I haven’t yet implemented, such as wearing T-shirts to Whole Foods that say “Soy Kills” or “Vegans: Outsourcing Animal Death to Monsanto since 1901.” Those techniques have gone over well with my test audience:
Seriously, though. Cave Husband just informed me that if I ask the cashier at Wawa about his “corn transit time” again he’s going to reclaim the DVR space I’ve filled with recordings about Vampires, Housewives and Kardashians and start filling it with South Park and PTI. Needless to say – I will NOT let that happen. (What does Scott Van Pelt have that Khloe Kardashian doesn’t have?) (Not hair.) (Smirk.)
Back to my Drescher-like abrasiveness. I suppose wearing controversial T-shirts to Whole Vegan Agenda Foods isn’t the best way to go. And in the end, it’s not my business whether somebody wants to dump concentrated plant estrogens over their Kashi Go-Agribusiness Crunch. Mike Brady got it right when he said “quit worrying about everybody else. Just worry about yourself.” (Well, he didn’t say that. He said, “Cindy, nobody likes a tattle-tale.” But I think my point stands.)
So I’m turning my focus back to my own “nutritional opportunities.” And believe me, 2 decades of SAD-ing, a few years of conventional medicine-ing and a good 5 years of crash dieting have left some “opportunities” that seat-of-the-pants Paleo doesn’t decisively target. I’m working on my digestion and gut flora and, as you may have read, my skin. Rectifying longstanding issues takes “stra-tee-gery” and super-nourishing foods like marrow, broth, liver, fermented foods, and butter oil.
I’ve found that I’m quite deficient in zinc, which is a pretty key nutrient with a hand in nearly everything I’m trying to optimize – from my skin to my gut health. Since I’m not big on pill-style supplementation, I have chosen to rectify both my zinc deficiency and my concomitant “slimy stinky ocean food deficiency” at the same time. Plain English: I’ve decided it’s time to eat oysters. Oysters have more than FIFTEEN TIMES the zinc of the next-closest food (beef) and I want to work more seafood into my diet.
Whine: I have never warmed up to eating oysters. Oysters are for ONE thing, and ONE THING ONLY: outfitting mermaid chesticles.
Aside: I never got to be Ariel in childhood games of pretend. Just like in college when everybody told me I was “just like Miranda” from Sex & The City, (ugh – can I puh-LEASE be the pretty one, or the stylish one, or even the skanky one? Must I really be THE LAWYER ONE?) I got the crappy mermaids too. I was always the one with the gross colors – I call it “gut dysbiosis brown.”
Anyhow, I learned to like (as in, live with) Cod Liver Oil and organ meats, so I assume I can learn to like oysters too. But I have been swallowing them like nutritional supplements – nose pinched, eyes squeezed shut, huge swig of lemon water – which I know is a total waste. Right? Or is that pretty much what all the snooty Georgetown yuppies at Hank’s Oyster Bar are doing over their Pomengranate this-and-thats?
So I made you read all those words to extend a simple cry for help: Somebody teach me how to appreciate this goopy glob of nutritional density. I’ll send you a love note and a cotton ball soaked in my perfume.
CaveGirlEats 