It’s practically inevitable. We mean, of course, the attempts at explanation met with blank stares, odd questions, and suspicious concern. Of course, the best argument for the Primal eating plan is the story and success of each person who makes it his/her own. (And always feel free to point any skeptics/otherwise interested parties our way to learn more! Everybody has to start somewhere on their road to health! We take all kinds.) Nonetheless, after the 54th time you’ve been told by another ill-informed conventional wisdom devotee that you’re on the brink of a heart attack, you might be looking for more creative comebacks.
As a loyal Worker Bee ever-skeptical of Conventional Wisdom, I’ve always been puzzled over the idea of fat free versions of fat and cream-based foods. Fat-free mayo, fat-free whipped cream (er, just what the hell are they whipping?), fat-free cheese – how are they wrought? What manner of culinary wizardry can make a delicious, creamy version of ranch dressing without all that artery-clogging fat? They must be doing something right, because they almost outnumber their full-fat counterparts on the shelves. And the people I see frequenting the aisles are always trim, slim, and full of vitality. Plus, what with the nationwide rates of diabetes, obesity, and heart disease plummeting to all-time lows just as the fat-free movement finally seems to be picking up steam, I think we can thank the good folks of Kraft, Best Foods, and Lean Cuisine for their commitment to public health.
And so I set out to peruse the aisles of the local supermarket for evidence of these shining beacons of health and chemical ingenuity. I hoped to discover the secrets so that I might recreate the delectable food products at home and avoid messing up my kitchen with “recipes” and “raw meat” and “food.”
From reading MDA, you might get the idea that we’re a little too focused on health, wellness, nutrition, and fitness for our own good. I can’t say I blame you. We do love our facts, our science, and our experiential evidence (hey, when you’re a vocal proponent of a lifestyle in direct opposition to Conventional Wisdom, you need to back your claims up), but we also stress that the Primal Blueprint is about enjoying life and fulfilling our existence. Our recipes are healthy, but they’re also rich, hearty, and delicious. Our exercise recommendations are intense and effective, but they’re also interesting, varied, and fun. The concept of regular play and social bonding is a huge part of our philosophy, and we fully promote the consumption of reasonable amounts of red wine and good dark chocolate (preferably together). That said, a post on miracle fruit is long overdue, and, to be expected.
When I first tell people I’m on a Primal Blueprint diet emulating our ancient ancestors, the witty ones are usually quick with a clever comment or two, usually referencing the Flintstones, heavy brow ridges, monosyllabic grunts, or some combination of the three. A hearty laugh is shared (mine being exceedingly polite), and they’ll go on to ask if I’ve experienced increased hair growth, whether or not I met my wife by clubbing her over the head, and if I’ve got caveman breath (always accompanied by a theatrical, exaggerated step backward). What would I do without such comedians?
I gotta admit, though, they might have a point about the caveman breath. Although I don’t have a problem with it personally (unless my wife has kept quiet all these years), bad breath is a common complaint I hear about low-carb dieters. Strangely enough, I rarely hear it from actual low-carbers, but rather from overly critical skeptics. Still, bad breath does happen to everyone, and I for one would be wary of engaging Grok in a close heart to heart talk over some fermented mammoth milk. Even on our own comment boards, reader madMUHHH complained about having constant bad breath. Of course, he was also eating loads of garlic and onions, which are notorious causes of bad breath (regardless of the overall diet), but it does go to show that just because we’re eating healthy Primal foods, it doesn’t mean we’re immune to the ravages of bad breath.
Would you spend $55 for a bottle of glorified tap water? Me neither. Apparently, though, some people would. Priced at $55 per reusable (we’d hope so) frosted-glass Swarovski Crystal-encrusted bottle, Bling H2O is the latest in “designer water” (I know, I know, I thought it was a joke, too) – a small segment of the bottled water industry that saw enormous growth a year or two ago when credit was plentiful. I remembered hearing about it in 2006, back when it was mostly relegated to the celebrity set. Paris Hilton’s dog, for example, was said to sip exclusively on Bling H2O water (probably while munching on dry, grain-filled kibble, no doubt).
© 2014 Mark's Daily Apple