Archive for obesity

Food and Vegetable Politics, oh my!

Posted in Article/Blog, Journal with tags , , , , , , , , , on March 6, 2009 by Tyler "Hrafn" Noyes

Following my experiment in consumption earlier in the week and the proceeding discussion of food politics on Facebook, I decided to continue my exploration of taste and desire by comparing and contrasting the high-fat, highly-industrial burger meal by spending three days eating well-balanced, nutritious vegetarian meals. The difference is tremendous.

In my average, daily diet here at college I do not consume a great deal of meat to begin with. My only meat comes from either the pepperoni pizza I eat occasionally or turkey or fish in a sandwich. To go three days without this food was not too much of a challenge. Instead of getting the chicken and chicken gravy in the shepherds pie, for instance, I opted out of both of those and replaced it with a delicious potato and leek soup.

The following two days, I satisfied my cravings for something heavy and dense in my stomach — such as a burger or some other sort of flesh, per se — with a lot of complex carbohydrates from grains or whole grain bread. Beyond this, milk was an adequate source of protein and nourishment. One evening, I had egg salad. Some vegetarians would dispute that eating an egg is non-vegetarian and carnivorous; my response is that I am an experimenter and in no way a purist.

To summarize my diet of the past several days, I enjoyed big bowls of fresh spinach leaves and other greens and colored vegetables that I ate raw and, generally, with my hands. No dressing is required to bring out the full, bold and earthy flavor of spinach. On my brown rice I used olive oil and added a few veggies. This was completely satisfying, easy on the stomach, and incredibly healthy. I did not miss meat in the least.

Last night I broke my three day journey into the vegetable life when I encountered ham salad at our deli bar here on campus. This is a rarity. When I was little my mom would made ham salad quite often for my lunches to be spread on sandwiches. I really enjoy the combination of mayo, ham, and relish. Unable to resist, I had it on my sandwich. My enjoyment of the meat came only in the value of nostalgia; I could remember the times in the past and the fond feelings towards my mother, her cooking, and being a kid. The ham by itself was sub par.

Another one of my favorite foods as a kid was bacon. One morning while coming back from a few days lodging in Bar Harbor, my family stopped at a breakfast buffet. I was so overwhelmed with the options that I loaded more than a pound of bacon into my bowl and went back to our table, intent on eating it all. Not only did I feel dehydrated a little ways into the meal, I was sick to my stomach and not even the combined appetite of the four of us could finish it off. I felt terribly wasteful. I’ve cleaned my plate and taken only what I can knowingly eat ever since.

Remembering this, I tried some bacon this morning and ate it slowly, thoughtfully, and inquisitively. Nothing. As my friend commented: “translucent” flesh and fat. Salt. There was almost nothing worthwhile in it. While bacon is not as pervasive as McDonald’s, for instance, there is a similar hype about it. That savory feeling in the mouth comes when images of bacon are on television or in print. Even just discussing the smell of bacon is sure to make one hungry.

To finish off my survey of food qualities, before writing this I ate a bag of Lay’s kettle cooked chips, the Jalapeno variety. Kettle chips are one of my weaknesses. I prefer brands other than Lay’s, but I figured that these would do. On the back of the bag, I noted the presence of MSG (Monosodium Glutamate) in the flavor powder coating the chips. MSG embodies the fifth flavor picked up by the human tongue, called Umami or “Savory”. It took me about fifteen minutes of intermittent snacking to finish off the bag. As I neared the end, my mouth felt otherworldly; my salivary glands were in high gear. All of my mouth was tingling and my gums felt inflamed. The savory flavor so embodied by MSG had overtaken my taste receptors and the flavor of every other ingredient to create a wild explosion of saliva and confusion.

The Findings: I am going to permanently reconsider my choices as I am dining. While I have been interested in nutrition for the past year or two, learned myself in some basics of organics, health foods, food additives, and other key components relevant to our modern diet, it just isn’t enough.

I will not align myself with any restrictive food ideology beyond my own, be it vegetarian, vegan, or any of the multitude of diet plans being sold on the market. I can feel clearly that burgers and a bowl of spinach affect me in distinctly different ways, and will use this instinct to eat as much as I can, rather than buying into the consumer market.

My hard earned money and yours ought not to support corporate giants who use food as a means of control and domination. A dangerous loss of culture, health, and liberty all result from buying into the lifestyle of soda, fast-food, and Western convenience. While I cannot escape the system, by being knowledgeable and open-minded in my choices, I can combat it, do my little part and be healthy within it until the day when we can all farm our own food.

An Experiment in Consumption

Posted in Article/Blog, Uncategorized with tags , , , , , , , , , , on March 1, 2009 by Tyler "Hrafn" Noyes

Recently I visited the art gallery at the University of Maine at Farmington, where I go to college. On the second floor of the gallery, part of a larger exhibit called “Here to There,” is a sculpture entitled “Complex”. One of the features of this sculpture are McDonald’s cheeseburger wrappers reborn and folded into flowers, sitting on various levels of the snowflake-shaped, multi-leveled construction.

When I saw the cheeseburger wrappers, immediately my mouth watered and the flavor of a perfect combination of ketchup, pickles, onions, and cheese filled my mouth. I wasn’t hungry at all, but just by seeing those wrappers — even in their new form — I instantaneously wanted a McDonald’s cheeseburger. The drive was almost like that for food, water, shelter, sex. The irony here is I despise McDonald’s and don’t care for any of their food. Still, the messages that the advertising has inundated me with for my entire life persist and have become so powerful that just seeing an image related to one of their products keys a savory feeling in my mouth.

I love cultural studies and criticism, so tonight I did an experiment in consumption. For one dinner, I diverged completely from my normal high-fiber diet of water, vegetables, lean meat or fish, and whole grains for one of the trademark American meals. I wanted to see how the delicious ideals I was left with would stand up to the real thing.

Too cheap to actually buy McDonald’s, I went to the dining hall and loaded up. I had three plates of food, totaling a slice of pizza, a cheeseburger with all the condiments, a large serving of fries, two plates of chicken nuggets with BBQ sauce, a grilled cheese sandwich, a bowl of oreo-style custard, a 16oz milkshake and a 12oz glass of coke.

My mouth was dripping with excitement for the cheeseburger. I knew very well the ingredients in the yellow cheese product that characterizes that ubiquitous American burger, and didn’t care. I shoved it in my face, shoveled in fries — ate the entire burger and was completely unsatisfied. However, because my mind recognized me eating a cheeseburger, my cravings subsided.

Next, I hastily ate the chicken nuggets. My teeth tore off the golden, fried breading around the mechanically separated chicken and I saw, for the first time, direct evidence of chicken mutilation. There is no part of a chicken that is shaped like a nugget, and the metal teethmarks in a symmetrical pattern beneath all the fried golden-ness spoke to its past. I sucked on a nugget for a long time, and there was no flavor. Dipping sauce was the only thing that excited my tastebuds.

The buttery, slightly-burned grilled cheese had that same narcotic, yellow, rubbery cheese substance that excited me like a beautiful woman. I struggled to get it down, to find flavor in an abyss of hydrogenated fats. I spooned down the warm custard, the yolky mass jiggling down my throat. I sipped about 6oz of the coke and then had to stop so as not to vomit.

I hope you can that this article has lost its journalistic integrity. My angle ought to be clear. In the five minute walk from the dining hall to my dorm, where I am composing this, I felt bloated and sick. My sides were cramping up as I ascended the stairs to the second floor of this building. My stomach is like a broiling pot of potato and trans-fat mash. This has made it clear to me the difference I feel after eating a bowl of fresh, crisp spinach and after binging on fast food. Even after only a single helping of fries or chicken nuggets, there is something intrinsically negative about those foods that, rather than rejuvenating and nourishing my body, it harms it in more ways than one.

I cherish and enjoy locally grown and organic food, especially that which comes out of my own garden back at home. Whole grains are like my life-blood; the hot cereals I cook in the mornings make most people run in fear of fiber. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not a purist. In college, especially, who can be? I’m also not a vegetarian. I would prefer to eat only meat that was grass-fed and grass-finished, but again, that’s not practical at all right now. I also don’t want to pretend that I don’t like french fries; when it’s only on a “sometimes”, those types of foods are great. But because of my experience tonight, I will learn to value my health and my food a little bit more, and buy into advertising a little bit less.

So what about you? Does this image arouse your desire?

cheeseburger

For those who would like more information on the excellent artwork on display at UMF right now, including the exhibit that inspired my experiment, go here: UMF Art Gallery Press Release

Axiomatic

Posted in Poetry with tags , , , , , on August 24, 2008 by Tyler "Hrafn" Noyes

They go around with baskets and carts,
or in power wheelchairs that scoot over
the dusty linoleum.

They’re in the yogurt aisles, the coffee aisles,

in the delicatessen, or grabbing from a line
of frozen foods for the hungriest men who
lost their hearts in front of television sets.
They have grocery lists and growling stomachs;
when there’s plummeting prices,
there they are
with appetites,
hands swollen with corpulence and
sagging necks that blend in with the
pork chops and second-rate hams.

They’ve washed their hair with bacon grease,
those folks who have children with cartoons
in their eyes and corn syrup on their minds.
Sweets have seeped into the precious marrow
of their growing bones and displaced the calcium;
Now they moan like baby chicks and
reach their little squirming hands for the Trix.

The fountainhead of fluorescent light
is the only place for food;
food that appears for the taking,
restocks itself every night;
food that takes their capital,
straddles their love handles,
returns nothing nutritous.

No one knows where any of it it came from;
the packages no longer lists ingredients.
An old man tells his grandson that milk
comes from the mystifying milk machines,
that hamburgers are from a factory
in the far east of Germany;

but there is woman who knows,
who holds a child in a wool sweater,
nourishes him with her proud breasts,
lets him play in the wavering wheat back home.
Like all good things with expiration dates,
there she goes.