Intro, Day 3: Finding My Groove

I am now getting into the rhythm of Intro. I love rhythm, whether it's the seasonal cycle of weather and plants or Middle Eastern music that makes me want to dance. I think it might be my Cancerian self, ruled by the moon and her phases, that makes me so. Whatever it is, when I hit my stride, it makes me feel confident and more energetic, full of ideas and ready to take on a challenge--or at least to keep moving forward (those of you doing Intro may understand how hard it can be to just keep at it at times).

Today I felt truly in my GAPS goove. I woke early (for me) and was fully awake--there was no way I was going back to sleep, as I usually might. I got up with energy, had my lemon water and started a new soup. I heated some ginger tea to hold me until breakfast (because of the thyroid medicine timing--I'll write about that in one of my next posts), heated my breakfast soup, organized supplies for the day.

Each Wednesday Blondina (our youngest), who is homeschooling, goes to Tribal Edge, a primal arts training center about 40 minutes from our home. We carpool with friends and today it was my turn to drive, so I planned to spend the day on the land, five acres surrounded by national forest and tribal lands. Usually I would run errands in the closest town, but today I thought I might enjoy four hours with nothing I must do--pure luxury!

Previously, when I have stayed the whole day, I brought sketchbooks or reading and kept mostly to myself, allowing the kids to interact with Ben (Tribal Edge's director), the land, themselves. Today was different, and very sweet. I toted my big dutch oven with the oxtails and neck bones that had been cooking since the early morning to the land, along with thermoses of ginger tea and chicken soup, an onion and some salt. I would finish the soup in the outdoor kitchen on the land, with some foraged greens and fresh air.

Part of the outdoor kitchen

I opted to start the soup on the propane burner and go gathering, instead of having the kids build a fire--they had other things to do at the moment. I felt like someone out of another time, traipsing past the woodpile and compost pile toward the edge of the woods with my basket and clippers. I noted the blackberry canes leafing out (promising fruit in August), abundant vanilla leaf, lush dandelions in the clearing, vibrant nettles all around. Dandelions and nettles were what I was after, and I quickly filled my basket to the brim with the pungent fresh greens (nettles smell almost peppery when freshly cut).

I should interrupt this narrative with an aside: yesterday I was flipping through Gut and Psychology Syndrome and excitedly noted that Dr. Natasha had included a recipe for nettle soup! How had I missed that during earlier readings? She even includes nettles on the list of therapeutic ingredients for juicing! Oh man! I have to tell you, I have an almost romantic relationship with nettles. I crave them, adore them, they feed and energize me, and every so often, if I am not gentle and mindful, they lash out. Just like a lover. Somehow, having Dr. Natasha's approval is almost like my mom telling me my guy is o.k. with her.

Nettles may be the ideal spring food. As if having fresh greens after months of cabbage were not enough, add to that the incredible nutrition and tonic attributes, the delicious taste, the emerald green, the aroma (mmm, sorry--I mentioned that already!). How can I explain the healing, whole-ing, experience of gathering the perfect food and preparing it for myself and to share? I get to wander in the dampness at edge of the woods, in the sun and the drizzle, in fresh air, listening to the eagles, crows and other birds rejoicing in the Spring. The plants, the air, the creatures all communicate, and I have the time to listen. I do get stung on occasion, which is a great reminder of where I am--and that I am.

Ah! Nettle Soup...

Into the bubbling soup go the nettles. When they wilt, I retrieve them and chop them finely. I add the chopped dandelions and taste for salt. And then I do what I do best: feed us all. Mmmmmmmmm.

P.S. Greens are actually hard on some people's guts, so, as with most vegetables on Intro, each of us has to decide whether we are ready for them. I have been eating nettles for weeks, have no diarrhea, and cooked the greens well, so for me this worked. It might not be o.k. for everyone on the third day of Intro!

And speaking of the nitty gritty of Intro, I added an egg yolk today, so I am on Stage 2. (See Baden's blog for a very thoughtful discussion) No issues that I detected, though I did get a bit irritated when my 16 year old daughter (The [cooking] Professional) monopolized the head (our bathroom) for so long that we all got off to a late start this morning. Some irritations are for cause!

All in all, a lovely day! Aside from nourishing food, it was filled with much laughter, companionship, and fresh air. What more do I need?

"If Mama Ain't Happy" or The Art of Slowing Down

I am nothing so much a tired at this point.

Finishing my second day of intro, still on Stage 1, I am feeling sort of woozy, tired, slow. My mind is pretty clear, and I have no specific physical complaints. I suppose that the first night's broken sleep is contributing, but I rather think this is a product of doing Intro itself. I am not sure if we are talking "die-off"here, or just adjusting to simpler, cleaner food and the removal of all extra substances (tea, supplements, etc).

What I really think is that this my body's way of telling me to slow down. I even believe that is why I got a migraine the first day. The voice in my head says: "Slow Down! Rest. Don't try to do everything." But isn't that what a mom is supposed to do? Meet everyone's needs? I have lived that way for a long time, being the mom of nine, including five I birthed. It has been easy to shove my needs to the back of the line. Which is probably how I developed more physical issues than a young-ish basically healthy woman should be experiencing.

Well, you have heard the phrase "if mama ain't happy, ain't NObody happy"... It's true! Over the past few years I have seen that taking better care of myself is good for all of us. And I have learned to let my sweetheart do more to take care of me, to make me happy. I don't have to be the one satisfying everyone's needs. Not now, and maybe not ever.

That is hard for me, a real "control junkie" and organizer. I am sure that others recognize this trait, the inability to let others do for us (or even for themselves!) because we think we can do it better, more efficiently, or because "it's our job." I have news for you, though, if this sounds familiar: if we don't do it, it will still get done! Really. We may have to ask, delegate, whine a bit (ok, no whining. How about sweet-talking?) People can't read our minds, even wonderful partners and perceptive kids will usually wait to be asked/told/directed to do something. But that's ok, because we created the pattern, so it may take a while to break out of it. Just ask!

Today I did very little. I ran a few errands, came home to eat, then went to a friend's house for a detox bath. She was so sweet, happy to let me languish in her tub as long as I liked. I brought a catalog for some mindless entertainment and emptied my brain of any concerns. Afterward, she fed me oxtails in broth--yes, you too can find friends who will make you food worthy of Intro! It was such a pleasure to allow myself to slow down. And to allow myself to be cared for.

This is what I wish for you today (whether you are doing Intro or not) find someone who really gets what you are doing for yourself and ask them to help, in some small way. Maybe they can watch the kids, or cook a meal, or sweep a floor for you. Take some time to just BE. Slow down and allow yourself to be happy...

Bring back the stewing hen!

Yesterday was hard.

Much harder than I anticipated, actually, based on my previous forays into Intro-Land. I think I have it narrowed down to three reasons:

1. I wasn't really ready, so didn't have a variety of food on hand. When I got nauseated, I didn't want the one soup I had prepared, and the other wasn't ready yet.
2. I went into a store that I know uses noxious air fresheners. Silly me! I was feeling good at the time, but ignored my wiser self and went in "just for a minute." The migraine that resulted lasted way longer than that...
3. I quit caffeine. For now. This is hard, as I drink only a bit of tea each morning, but I thought I should do it, to get a clearer read on how my adrenals are responding.

Yes, I realize I brought it on myself, but it meant that I spent the night agonizing with nausea and the migraine. With the help of some herbs and a cold wet washcloth, I did finally get to sleep. And then Blondina, the youngest daughter (9), started throwing up. Really. All over the place. At 2:30 am.

My husband, The Captain, took her out for Mexican when it was clear I wasn't getting up to make their dinner. Which turns out to have been a bit of a waste, as every bit of it came back up. I would have pointed out to her that crappy food had no business being in her to begin with, but who am I to talk, making myself sicker than necessary? (See above.) She will get to figure these things out in time.

So here I am, a bit woozy with a migraine hangover. But I don't want to be so negative when there is good news! My basal body temperature, which had been steadily going down over the last week (it was 97. 3 yesterday) shot up to 98.1 today! And that was earlier than usual, which I would have expected to be lower.

I feel pretty good so far today. I have had my lemon water and my thyroid medicine (I stopped taking all supplements, but I do have to continue with my Naturethroid), and a large mug of ginger tea. I did use a bit of honey (maybe 1/2 tsp) to help with the shakiness since I have not eaten since lunch yesterday. I have to wait an hour after my medicine to eat, which is coming up, but I needed to hold out until then.

I started a pot of soup yesterday with a stewing hen from one of our local egg farmers. He sells his old layers for the old fashioned soup pot, and I was super lucky that I had a couple in the freezer. This morning, as I was pulling off the meat, skin and fat for my soup, I felt very meditative. The fat and skin on this bird are so yellow, so full of the sunshine where Harley's birds run. I really appreciate how, now, past her ability to lay eggs, this hen is still a life-giving force. These hens make the best chicken soup I have ever tasted. They are scrawny to look at, nothing impressive. But the flavor, the color--and I am sure, the nutrition--are incomparable.

I put a leek, a couple of carrots and two tiny beets in the soup, along with the small bunch of tender beet greens. A little ginger, peppercorns, and some sea salt are the only seasonings. In a moment I will eat some of this healing soup--worthy of my great-grandmother Regine (I hope!), adding some chopped garlic, and a teaspoon of kvass for probiotics. I am thankful that this hen gave her life for my nourishment.

I am starting this Day 2 of intro in gratitude--for new lessons to be had in taking care of myself and to inform my work with others.

How did your day go?

GAPS Intro, redux

I wasn't intending to do it.

When Baden (of "GAPS Guide", and the GAPS Guide book) posted that she was getting ready to re-do the intro diet, and offered to support others who wanted to do it as a group, I thought, "well, that's good. A lot of people will benefit. Maybe I'll do it again at some point, but not now."

Not now indeed. I am starting my thesis (and that is part of why I haven't been writing here, because I have been thinking, planning, finishing my coursework...) It is Spring in Port Angeles, so we have been taking winter things off the boat, ripping plastic off the windows, eating geoduck, foraging for nettles. Everything, really, but doing the internal Spring Cleanse that might be in order.

But two things happened: Baden is crazy persuasive, with her gentle matter-of-fact approach. She doesn't push anyone, which gives people room to make their own decisions (I admire this trait, something I need to emulate). And I, like Baden, have allowed non-GAPS foods to slip in over time, which recently has been having unwanted effects. A few old symptoms have returned--mild vertigo, water retention, basal temperatures dropping.

I think I am both ready and in need of that Spring Cleaning.

So, without planning, at least not consciously, I have started Intro this morning. I didn't have all the supplies ready, but I was pretty close. I had to use lime in my water instead of lemon, and the soup I had for breakfast was some that I had canned last summer (thank goodness I am such a miser and can't bear to throw anything away!) I am sipping ginger tea as I write, hold the honey. Because craving sweets is definitely another of those pesky issues that has reared its ugly head.

I tried to talk myself out of it. Several times. The Thesis. The Spring Cleaning. Foraging. Easter is coming, and I always make candy for the kids: luscious marshmallows, nut brittle, truffles--all made with honey and love. So many things to get in the way of self-love. But, you know what? I can still make the candy, and I can not eat it. I am a strong adult, and I can take care of myself. I can make a pot of soup for me, while cooking for the family. Intro is not forever, and the payoff is huge.

I may not do it perfectly. In the past I have cut a few corners, but this time I am trying to do it textbook-style. Just to see what happens. Maybe I will be able to introduce dairy this time, after three years with butter as the only dairy I can tolerate. Maybe by being strict right now, I will have more freedom down the line.

And that's what it is about for me. Freedom. Freedom from symptoms, from worry, from complications. GAPS is about eating simply and healthfully. It's about making a meal that satisfies, not one that impresses. It's about giving my body a rest. It's not prison--it's the opposite: pure freedom.

If any of you are still hanging with me after my erratic habits of the last two years, thank you. And if you are motivated to do your own Spring Cleaning, do let me know. Let's support each other toward the freedom of true health.

Are you On a Special Diet?

Many of us (or members of our families) have health or other issues that restrict our diets somewhat. This section will make it easier for you to find recipes compatible with many different types of diets.

I have done a tremendous amount of research in order to modify and categorize Nourishing Traditions recipes on this site, but I am still learning. If you see something in the incorrect category please drop me a quick note at kim@thenourishingcook.com or just place a comment on this page. Thank you!

Recipes are Available for These Special Diets:

• Gluten free diet
• Specific Carbohydrate Diet SCD
• Gut and Psychology Syndrome GAPS diet
• Paleo or Primal diet
• Casein free (milk/dairy allergy)
• Grain Free
• Nightshade Free (free of tomatoes, potatoes and peppers)
• Kosher
• Low Carb
• Weight Loss diet such as Eat Fat Lose Fat

via thenourishingcook.com

I love this resource! Thanks to Kim at The Nourishing Cook for seeing the need and coming to our rescue. This is one to bookmark . . .

What I Have Been Learning These Last 18 Months

I have been doing, rather than writing. I have apologized enough for my absence; what I really must do is try to convey what I have been learning.

I have learned that if we have grace enough to accept the discomfort, the unfamiliarity, we can find bounty in what we otherwise might have seen as limitation. We can insist on a lettuce salad in January and find blandness, or we can instead find the song in the celery salad with a tart and pungent mustard vinaigrette. If we eat apples and bananas in June, we will miss the impossible perfection of a tiny scarlet strawberry.

We have chosen more work, more change, much training in new skills. We have given up bland, predictable, empty. In the small amount we now take, utilize, receive, we now have true abundance. FULL. We are full. We experience change, seasonality, lack of things we once depended upon, as the fullness of possibility. Everything is available to us if only we accept what is here.

So last year we bought a cider press. A strange thing for those who live full time on a boat perhaps. We tasted one glass of the nectar of this contraption and, like Rapunzel's mother, knew that whatever price, however foolish the quest seemed, we MUST do this. So we did. We asked the man who built the press, lovingly, with local woods and inlay suited to fine furnishing, where we would get apples, since we live in the middle of the water. He laughed. He told us all we had to do was ask. And indeed, all we had to do was ask. We gleaned about 1000 pounds of fruit last year--apples, pears, plums. Most were fermented into wine and cider, some we drank fresh and canned for eating throughout the winter. There is an abundance--just ask.

This is not a good apple year, though we have found some and currently have two carboys fermenting. But we learned something else this Spring, just as our patience with apples and cabbages was wearing through. I must be channeling Rapunzel's mother, because I had the most intense craving for nettles you can imagine. People say cooked nettles resemble cooked spinach, but to me that is only in the way that a McDonald's burger is somehow teasingly related to a grass-fed burger off of a live fire. Nettles are so alive, so green, that they dance on your tongue. And, as it happens, they make a beer that will blow the winter cobwebs out of your nooks and crannies. So not enough apples for a year's worth of wine? No matter, really. This year we will make more nettle beer.

And we will make more spruce tip beer. More like a porter, almost chewable, this is the antidote to no oranges. Because, how ridiculous is it really to eat citrus at 48 degrees north? Spruce tips, and all new evergreen growth (those soft yellow-green ends on each branch) are not only edible, they are highly antiscorbutic. That is, they are high in vitamin C and whatever else prevents scurvy--because I don't think we really know what does that, not completely, or else the traditional Northern peoples who at times of the year only ate fat and flesh (think the Inuit) would have perished from scurvy long ago. That's too long for me to discuss in this overview, but clearly they weren't getting ascorbic acid. And we are told this is something we need daily, because it is water soluble. But I am wandering . . .

For sour, because we do need sour, we eat sauerkraut and season with apple cider vinegar. I do hope to get enough apples for cider this season to devote a carboy to vinegar--something I really don't want to buy if I can make my own.

Funny how we have to meet the tastes' needs with what we have at hand--sweet is easy, from our berries and stone fruits, apples and pears. And many things have parts with different tastes . . . one-stop shopping of a different sort.

Bitter, for me, is dandelion greens, another deep need that has flourished. Other greens, of course, will fill that need. But dandelion is king. And, if we miss the moment for the greens, we can make wine, dig roots, come at the greens again in the Fall.

Pungent has shifted though. Somehow the hot peppers that seemed right in Miami are not the thing for me here. Instead, we have fallen in love with horseradish, buying whole untamed roots that look like small heads streaming gnarly dreadlocks, grinding them and submerging the mass in brine. Horseradish with shortribs, horseradish with shrimp, horseradish to clear the sinuses. Horseradish is as sweet as it is spicy, sometimes catching me when I am not paying attention, because I am tasting sweet then get sucker-punched by the sharpness underneath.

Umami, meaty, savory--the meat of our land. Brothy, like a winter's warming soup. No challenges here, with wild and farmed within minutes of our home. New tastes, like elk and geoduck keep us moving and flexible. We eat meat, we flavor with meat. It is the anchor of the meal, even if you can't see it. The serendipitous effect of last-night's salad mingling on the plate with this morning's fried eggs--that is our Umami.

Salt, well, we live in salt, we breathe it. We eat oysters and glasswort and kelp. Salt is our blood. Maybe even more so for living on a boat, but I would venture that most of us on the Peninsula are replete with salt . . .

People have asked me if I am going the Weston A. Price Foundation conference this year. I have learned so much at the ones I did attend, and I would go again, but life is keeping me here. The land and the wind and darkness are my teachers here. This winter they taught me a big lesson, a hard and necessary one--they whispered (I hear Miss Clavel here . . .) "something is not right." I looked inward, past the melancholy brought into painful sharpness by the grey of the sky, and saw what I have been skirting for years, a metabolic imbalance that I could address, would address. Letting most things unfold, allowing change to grow out of new circumstances allowed me to see what I could exert my will upon, indeed, that it was appropriate to do so. For the last nine months I have been learning everything I could about thyroid and adrenal (and other hormonal) issues. I have been experimenting with herbs, glandulars, foods, more sleep. I have kept careful notes. And I have been getting better. There is more clarity and evenness in my days, my skin, hair, nails and weight are happier. I keep at it.

Who can say what the dark of the coming winter will bring? A new test, I am sure. More learning. Who knows? The shadows? We shall see . . .

"Wedding feast gleans from local fields" in the Peninsula Daily News

via peninsuladailynews.com

Check out what I have been up to recently!  I have had some requests for recipes from the wedding, so will follow this with a menu and some selected recipes . . .