Heartburn

Greetings from the Bolt Bus. I'm en route back to New York from a whirlwind trip to Boston that included visits to several dietetic internship sites and drinks with a girlfriend and coffee with other people I don't get to see enough and a delicious meal at this restaurant called The Elephant Walk in Cambridge.

In my former life as a Writing and Publishing student, I didn't seem to understand that one could both enjoy food and cooking and write well (I read way too much Bukowski in college, and thought that to have any cred, I needed to live on whiskey and wine and cheap stew and, like, nickel-candy bars and just write all night long about, well, things). But then, I also smoked cigars and wore cowboy boots every day and didn't own a hairdryer and sort of pretended I wasn't an honors student, so there you go. Clearly, it was just a phase. Now, I often do my best creative writing while stirring a pot of soup or waiting for lentils to cook.

The point of this post is to tell you to read Nora Ephron's 1983 book Heartburn. I just read it in one sitting and loved it. Somehow, she manages to turn a novel about a cookbook author who, seven months into her pregnancy, discovers her husband is having an affair into a laugh-out-loud (on the bus!) read.

More on The End of Overeating

I love the New York Public Library. I have gotten to read so many great books without having to pay a dime.

David Kessler's The End of Overeating finally came in for me last week, and I must say, if you have the opportunity to read it, do it.

To give you a quick summary, Michael Pollen says of this book: "A fascinating account of the science of human appetite, as well as its exploitation by the food industry. The End of Overeating is an invaluable contribution to the national conversation about the catastrophe that is the modern American diet."

Kessler gets into the specifics of the sugar-salt-fat flavors people are conditioned to crave and the ways in which foods are engineered to be irresistible. I guarantee, you will never look at a TGIFridays or a Chili's or a Cheesecake Factory menu the same way ever again.

I have to say, though, the way he writes about people's responses to trigger foods and their feelings of powerlessness against them stresses me out a little. I think that's a compliment to his writing and ability to communicate the hold these foods have on these individuals. This book is compelling and fascinating and it makes me feel a tiny bit bad for all the lab rats involved in the experiments cited. In short: it's a must-read.

Housewife Food or In Which Jess Succumbs to the Chardonnay

So, those of you who know me may be aware of my general distaste for Chardonnay. To be honest, it has very little to do with the flavor and more to do with rebellion against family conventions. Unfortunately, this has led me to a love of rose wine, which is not exactly the classiest thing ever, though I like basically all wines, white and red and everything in between—anything but chardonnay. I just happen to be one of those people who orders White Zinfandel in earnest. This is why I am allowed to say what I'm about to—it's the equivalent of making a self-aware blonde joke.

So anyway, today I was at a bridal shower in DC, and one of the only (alcoholic) beverages available was white wine—chardonnay, in particular. So I said to myself, "When in Rome..."

And yeah, talk about Rome. I had always read about tea sandwiches and stuff (finger sandwiches to some), but I had never before witnessed for myself the shear oddity that is a plate of microscopic cream-cheese-on-date-nut-bread sandwiches. Or the cucumber-and-mayo. I did not venture near the egg salad ones. There was also a large bowl of what looked like chicken salad in addition to white, fluffy crescent rolls (Pillsbury?). Fortunately, there was also a fruit salad and a spinach-and-strawberry salad. There were also some spanikopita appetizer things (thank god).

While I don't technically consider myself a vegetarian, I was really not into the chicken salad, and the white rolls were just not my thing (they were cold, first off). As I filled my plate with green stuff and fruit, I found myself mentally planning a dinner party in which there would be no "housewife food." I'm talking, like, roasted garlic and a beautiful fruit-and-cheese plate, and roasted vegetables, etc. etc. etc. And that's just for the appetizers.

Read Laura Shapiro's Something From the Oven : Reinventing Dinner in the 1950's if you want a more in-depth description of what I mean by "housewife food." It's mostly the mayonnaise and the tea sandwiches I am referring to, but in general, the whole "sweet and light" thing, really. There was this whole category of cuisine that fell under the "women's food" umbrella, and basically all of it was disgusting, most of it involving mayo, marshmallows, or both.

I'm sorry, but a New York gal such as myself really has no idea what to do when confronted with that stuff. So what do we do?

This is where the wine comes in, chardonnay though it may be...

Read This Book!

I just got Alone in the Kitchen with an Eggplant from the library the other day, and I have to stop myself from tearing through it. I wish I'd thought of this idea!

Edited by Jenni-Farrari-Adler, this collection of essays chronicles the most intimate dining habits of a diverse set of writers including Nora Ephron, Steve Almond, Laura Dave and others.

From Publisher's Weekly:

A mishmash of foodie writers dispute, humorously or more self-seriously, the pros and cons of cooking and dining alone. While eating by oneself can be the busy worker's greatest pleasure, as Colin Harrison notes of his solitary Manhattan lunches during a work day ("Out to Lunch"), and mother Holly Hughes ("Luxury") agrees is a secret but too rare pleasure, other writers see it as depressing or shameful. In "The Lonely Palate," Laura Calder quotes Epicurus as saying, "we should look for someone to eat and drink with before looking for something to eat and drink"—then offers a recipe for Kippers Mash. Eating is an act of love, thus prompting Jonathan Ames ("Poisonous Eggs") to dine out and flirt with the waitress. "Table for One" by Erin Ergenbright records how the single diner is perceived uneasily by the wait staff. And M.F.K. Fisher relishes solitary dining ("A Is for Dining Alone") as a way to escape "the curious disbelieving impertinence of the people in restaurants." The collection is named after an essay by Laurie Colwin, who found a dozen different ways to cook eggplant on her two-burner hot plate while living alone in a tiny Greenwich Village flat.

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

The End of Overeating

This new book, The End of Overeating, by former FDA President David Kessler sounds pretty interesting. I'm always fascinated by pieces that pick apart marketing and advertising—Sure, it's no secret that food companies prey upon people's senses, insecurities, and desires, but I'm always up for hearing new accounts on this topic. The fact that Kessler provides some semblance of a solution sounds encouraging as well. Pointing the finger is only half the battle...

From Publishers Weekly

Conditioned hypereating is a biological challenge, not a character flaw, says Kessler, former FDA commissioner under presidents Bush and Clinton). Here Kessler (A Question of Intent) describes how, since the 1980s, the food industry, in collusion with the advertising industry, and lifestyle changes have short-circuited the body's self-regulating mechanisms, leaving many at the mercy of reward-driven eating. Through the evidence of research, personal stories (including candid accounts of his own struggles) and examinations of specific foods produced by giant food corporations and restaurant chains, Kessler explains how the desire to eat—as distinct from eating itself—is stimulated in the brain by an almost infinite variety of diabolical combinations of salt, fat and sugar. Although not everyone succumbs, more people of all ages are being set up for a lifetime of food obsession due to the ever-present availability of foods laden with salt, fat and sugar. A gentle though urgent plea for reform, Kessler's book provides a simple food rehab program to fight back against the industry's relentless quest for profits while an entire country of people gain weight and get sick. According to Kessler, persistence is all that is needed to make the perceptual shifts and find new sources of rewards to regain control. (May)

Copyright © Reed Business Information, a division of Reed Elsevier Inc. All rights reserved.

French No. 1 in Sleeping and Eating.

Big surprise there. According to a report published Monday by the Organization for Economic Cooperation and Development, the French spend more time sleeping and eating than the inhabitants of any other "highly developed country."

The average French person gets nine hours of sleep per night, a half-hour more than the average American (I don't know too many Americans who sleep eight-and-a-half hours a night, but whatever).

When it comes to eating habits, the French devote over two hours per day to meals. That's twice the amount of time spent by Americans.

It seems to be paying off for them, as the report shows life expectancy of the country's men and women lagging behind only Japan.

I think France has the right idea, personally. I know I feel better when I'm well rested and make the time to enjoy my meals.

I get a kick out of books and articles like, "How to Eat like a French Woman" or "Live the French Life for a Month: First things first—only wash your hair once a week." I swear to god, look it up.

One thing I do wish would change though is that instead of putting out books with titles like, French Women Don't Get Fat, how about we think more in terms of "French women maintain a healthy weight?"

I guess that wouldn't sell as many copies, though. Americans are just as obsessed with FAT vs THIN as we are with the French.