Tuesday, July 6, 2010

Fat good, carbs bad

Dr. Andrew Weil is probably a very nice man, but his views on health and medicine tend not to attract me.  Indeed, I tend to veer away from New Agey, Old Hippie kinds of things as much as possible (too much emotionalism, too much "true believer").  A recent Weil blog on the Huffington Post did, however, attract my attention for its discussion of fat versus carbs.  In it Weil draws on recent research and a recent book by Gary Taubes to highlight these points (made by Taubes in his book):
  1. Dietary fat, whether saturated or not, is not a cause of obesity, heart disease or any other chronic disease of civilization.
  2. The problem is the carbohydrates in the diet, their effect on insulin secretion, and thus the hormonal regulation of homeostasis -- the entire harmonic ensemble of the human body. The more easily digestible and refined the carbohydrates, the greater the effect on our health, weight and well-being.
  3. Sugars -- sucrose and high-fructose corn syrup specifically -- are particularly harmful, probably because the combination of fructose and glucose simultaneously elevates insulin levels while overloading the liver with carbohydrates.
  4. Through their direct effects on insulin and blood sugar, refined carbohydrates, starches and sugars are the dietary cause of coronary heart disease and diabetes. They are the most likely dietary causes of cancer, Alzheimer's disease and other chronic diseases of modern civilization.
Weil does recommend, for environmental reasons, to reduce the amount of meat in the diet, but not to fear to give it its proper place.   As for me, Taubes has a whole chapter on fiber!  I am so getting this book.

Monday, July 5, 2010

When the garbage disposer dies

We haven't always had a garbage disposer.  I can remember moving to this house when I was 9 years old and, not long after, Daddy installing a disposer.  I still remember being told not to put bones or paper in the disposer, the concept was that new to us.  Over the years, I've had to cope with a few hours, maybe even a whole 24 hours, of life without a disposer as we waited until one of our very handy men procured and installed a new one.

Imagine my delight when the garbage disposer here at Mama's house died a very sudden death recently, and there was not a man, handy or otherwise, in sight.   


I did what troubleshooting I could.  Cleared out the disposer, punched the resent button, looked for something strong enough to try to "stir" the turn-plate of blades.  No joy in any of it.


We then entered the stage of having no disposer while we considered whether (a) Next Door Cousin and I could replace the thing, (b) to call a plumber, or (c) to have My Prince make a mad dash to Houston.
  • I seriously considered (a).  NDC is single, tough, and semi-handy.  Between the two of us, we might figure it out.  Our problem was upper body strength.  There are pipes and other screwish things involved in replacing the disposer, and neither one of us have a lot of muscles.  Indeed, I actually have a battery operated jar opener for when pickles get to be too touch. 
  • The thought of (b) was both a matter of cost and skill.  Neither of the important men in my life were ever big on paying for labor when they could do the job themselves.  My late father was always DIY and the go-to guy in the extended family for help or advice.  Ditto for My Prince.  Not that MP always approved of how Daddy did some of his jobs.  (Painting the eaves with a broom for a brush was a late-in-life solution to getting the job done when it was too dangerous for him to be on a ladder.)  And that is the crux of the issue for (b):  can anyone do the job well enough to meet MP's standards?  Prolly not.
  • That left (c), although I put my foot down and said there would be no mad-dashing.  We could survive without a disposer for a while, and MP was instructed to plan his trip to Houston with some consideration given to all the things he was already trying to do.  Eventually he agreed, and decided to come a few days later.
In the meantime, we had to survive without a disposer.

Doing so called to mind all the mishaps that can come from lack of a disposer.  I'm thinking of the fellow who decided to chop up watermelon rinds small enough to flush down the toilet.  (Not a good idea, said the plumber.)  Or the gals in the office above mine who washed coffee grounds down the sink.  (Not a good idea, said the plumber, who cleaned up my flooded office.)

Needless to say, we didn't need anything like those events, so nothing unusual was flushed down the toiler or washed down the sink.  We kept a mesh wire strainer over the disposer opening and dumped whatever landed there into the garbage.  All of this dumping, however, made the garbage a tad more aromatic, so more effort was given to making sure that things were covered.  We also had to worry about greater attraction for flies and, well, cockroaches.

The days without a disposer were less carefree than those Good Old Days of having a disposer.  There was much "food for thought" (no pun intended) regarding composting and all the labor that that might entail.  There was a reminder every day about vermin control and the spread of disease.

We live wasteful lives here in the US.  We consume and trash and deplete natural resources at a phenomenal rate compared to much of the rest of the globe and even to the potential for replenishing most of those resources (slim to none).  I thought, for a while, that perhaps we should make the effort to live without the garbage disposer permanently.  After all, it was an addition to this old house, and there are still some houses in the neighborhood that don't have them.  It is surely possible.  It is, however, not so healthy.  I'm going to emphasize that reason in my thinking about the disposer right now, but I will also give more thought to how we can cut down on the need for using the it. 

In the meantime, yea!  My Prince came to fix it!