It just goes to show 2 things : The power of the mind and the power of good nutrition...
Enjoy!
WEDNESDAY, 11 JANUARY 2012
It's amazing what a bit of a shock can do.
I've always loved my mum's cooking. It's probably the same for most of us.
I'm not sure if it's because it's familiar, because I've enjoyed the luxury of
someone else cooking for me, because it's a comfort,
or just because it tastes so damn good.
That's probably the biggest problem with food.
It can have so much emotion attached to it.
I remember when I was a kid there was a relatively wealthy man
I remember when I was a kid there was a relatively wealthy man
in the neighbourhood who used to spend his afternoons
touring the local fish and chip shops. He'd eat a meal at each one.
As a kid, I knew he was big but I don't remember thinking of him as
grossly obese. He could still get around, obviously.
After his third heart attack, doctors told him he had to change
his diet or he would die. His response, and I'm fairly certain this
wasn't just suburban gossip, was
"If I can't eat what I love then I may as well be dead".
His two kids were the same age as me and he died within six months.
When I was diagnosed with my illness so little was known
about it and I was put under the care of a cardiologist,
even though now it's considered more of a lung disease that
affects the heart. But being labelled with a heart disease
may be what saved me.
My mum is the kind of person who solves everything with food.
My mum is the kind of person who solves everything with food.
If someone in the street dies, Mum's at the relatives door with
enough food for them for a week. Smaller problems can be solved
by a nice cup of tea. I'll never forget the look on Mum and Dad's face
after the doctor had told them what was wrong with me.
He'd told me, alone, and, to be perfectly honest,
I wasn't overly concerned. I wasn't quite eighteen and I was invincible.
I understood what I'd been told but I didn't really think it was right.
My thinking back then helps me understand the youth road toll.
But when my parents, who'd vowed to each other not to cry in front of
me that day, burst into tears the moment they entered the room, it hit home
a little. I'd made them upset. I didn't want them to be upset.
Now, many years later, as a parent myself, I understand how much
Now, many years later, as a parent myself, I understand how much
they wanted my illness to go away. They would have done anything
to "fix" me but there was nothing they could do.
Except that Mum could cook.
And with the not too distant memory of a neighbour
suffering death by fish and chips, Mum decided to overhaul
her entire method of cooking.
Mum cooked the old fashioned English way -
Mum cooked the old fashioned English way -
most things were cooked in fat, and lots of it.
Not oil, solid animal fat. That was the first thing to disappear.
It was traded for healthier oils and much less of them.
And the trading didn't stop. We figured out that the three biggest
nasties to cut out were fat, sugar and salt. So we started reading
labels and switched to low fat, low salt and low sugar versions
of everything we could. It really was that simple. You know it, too.
But maybe you don't have death by fish and chips sitting on your
shoulder, whispering sweet nothings in your ear.
Mum's not exactly a food saint. She makes the most disgustingly
delicious oily roast potatoes you can imagine and plies my teenage
son with chips and biscuits and soft drink when we go to visit.
But that's not our norm. We splurge now and then.
But we know what's good for us. My mum's desperate attempt to save
my life by cooking for me, worked. In many ways I owe my life to
those carefully prepared daily tuna (no added salt) salad lunches
and that poor man who let his beloved fish and chips end his life.
The least I can do is keep it up.
Thanks Mum.
Thanks Mum.
