Catching feelings.

I was counseling someone recently about healthy food choices. This wasn't actually a patient--it was an acquaintance who had been feeling a little bummed about weight management issues.

"I don't know what it is that makes it so hard for me to eat right. I mean. . .I try. . .but then I fall right back off again."

That conversation went similarly to discussions I have with patients. Next came my suggestions about portion control, healthy choices, filling up on lean proteins and vegetables, and easing up on the bread and carbs. The same ol' same ol'.

Yawn.

Since then I've been thinking about food and our relationships with food.  Because everyone has a relationship with food.  Some people enjoy their meals, but mostly look at it as nourishment. Sure, they indulge here and there. But for people with this kind of relationship with food, it's more of a "hookup" with no strings attached and they don't "catch feelings."

Let me quickly sidebar you on that for a second--this idea of "catching feelings."  I still remember this one night when I was sitting on the porch of my dorm talking about boys with a group of girls. One of them  had been "hanging out" with this guy who (totally) had a girlfriend (which now that I am reflecting on it makes me laugh out loud at this idea of folks thinking they were betrothed to anyone back then.) Anyways. Like I was saying, this girl and this (spoken for) guy were "hanging out." (read: being intimate/lovey dovey even though he had a girlfriend.) However, there was a bit of a problem, Houston--she liked him for real. But him? Oh, this was just casual and he was just "hanging out" on the "low-low." (There was lots of good slang in 1989, too.)

Now check it--seeing as dude was already attached to someone, he broke off their little situation stating that they couldn't "hang out" anymore seeing as she was "catching feelings" and all. Yeah, that's right. "Catching feelings."  That surprising (or not-so-surprising) side effect of spending time with someone or something such that you find yourself wanting more, please.  So him? He was "just chillin'."  And her? She was trying out his last name and picking out china patterns--rookie mistake.

Dang.

See? I am thinking that this is how food is for some people. Like, no matter how hard some of us try. . . . at first it's just "hanging out" and then, despite our best efforts, we "catch feelings." We try diets and "lifestyle modifications" but as soon as food gives us an inch, we look up and now we've taken a mile. . . making those same rookie mistakes.

And why is that any way?

Harry and I have very different feelings about food.  For him, food has more love wrapped up inside of it than it does for me. He is incredibly disciplined in all areas of his life--but whenever we get on one of our "Team Manning" health kicks. . . .I can tell that it affects us differently. Like. . .it's almost. . .I don't know. . oppressive for him to eat egg whites and lean turkey for breakfast.  Yes, I meant to use that word--oppressive. 

Part of this has to do with how our mothers cooked (and still cook.)  My mom mostly cooked because we needed to eat. (No offense to my mother.) I don't recall hearing her agonizing over what to serve on a Sunday or mapping out a big Thanksgiving for fifty folks.  We always had delicious, hearty meals--yes. But with the exception of her (amazing) specialties--yeast rolls and homemade dressing--most of those things could be done fairly painlessly.

At least this was my impression.

My mother-in-law on the other hand? Fuggeddaboudit. When she comes to town, there is only one single thing we argue about--how much food she makes. Cakes. Pies. And not just cakes and pies. Several of them. Case in point--nobody ate the sheet cake I bought from Publix for Isaiah's second birthday because sweet Nana had also made. . .wait for it. . . TWELVE sweet potato pies, TWO red velvet cakes, and ONE key lime cake. Oh, and a big, giant vat of banana pudding.

Um, yeah.

In Harry's house growing up, Sunday meals start on Saturday. Chopping up things and soaking things and seasoning things. Sunday morning early the house is already filled with amazing scents wafting into the nostrils of sleepy little ones.  Homemade biscuits with butter pats on each one bake as she grates cheddar for macaroni and cheese. Bacon is sizzling in a frying pan and eggs are being scrambled with some of that same cheddar cheese folded in.  Oh, and do you want some hashed browns, too? Sure, baby, here you go. Real buttermilk cornbread getting poured into a cast iron skillet and brisket slow cooks all the while. Just like you like it.

After 24 hours of preparation and cooking. . . .the meal is but a memory by 5pm.  But the love could be tasted in every bite. . . and seen in the entire spread. Three meats, more sides than could be counted and of course, some sho'nuff dessert to top it off. The night ends with a house full of happy folks in comfort food comas.

See?

So how do you tell folks who grow up with this to wake up to some steel cut oats and a dry ass piece of grilled chicken breast and steamed broccoli?  How do you say, "Chill on the butter" or "choose the berries for dessert?"  Like. . .how?

There's also folks who catch feelings for food later in life.  The love affair starts on the "low low" in college or after some pivotal time in your life. Maybe it's wrapped tightly inside of another relationship like with that of a bff or a summer romance. The food becomes a part of the celebration of happiness and most activities start to center around it.  Ever seen a newly wed like six months after the wedding with a few new curves? A lot of us have been there. . . all that love leads to some extra butter pats on biscuits in the morning. . .and some extra junk in that theoretical trunk. 

Anyways.

Look, man. I have no answers here. All I know is that food is real complex.  And I need to be thinking a little more carefully about that when counseling my patients in the future.

Because some people caught feelings for food a long time ago.  Or at some point.  So asking them to scale it back to just "hanging out" from a full on love affair is more than just a notion.

Yeah.

That's all I got today.

***
Happy Monday.

What's your relationship with food? Do y'all casually "hang out" or have you "caught feelings?"

Top Ten: Soul Food.

 "Come and get your soul food. . .well, well

Good ol' fashioned soul food. . . alright

Everything is for free

As good as it can be

Come and get some soul food."

~ Goodie Mob featuring Cee-Lo Green

  _______________________________________________
First things first--- I know, I know. I've been pretty raggedy about my . . .ah hem. . ."Thursday" top ten. But seriously? Life moves too fast sometimes and I look up and it's not even Thursday anymore. So yeah. . . I need to revise it to just "top ten" to afford me the chance to not get the hairy eyeball when it's not up yet. Errrr. . . yeah.

Okay. . .so from here on--let's just say I'm keeping it. . . uuuhhhhh. . . mysterious. Yeah, that's it. Kind of like my People magazine that comes on any damn day it wants. Sometimes early the following week even. (Which reminds me--why the heck haven't I gotten the one with Amy Winehouse yet?! Arrrrgggh!)

Uuuuhh, okay. Let's get on to more unimportant things, shall we?

Freaked-out Friday. . . .

Okay, so on Friday I was so busy. Like, crazy busy. The morning started with my regular household craziness made crazier by the early hit time I had at the school of medicine. Any time I have something early--too early--it sends my house (read:my husband) into a tailspin.

Bananas.

Next up--a small group session with my brand new first year meds. They all spent a week shadowing interns and third year med students on the wards and we all met up to debrief their experiences. In addition to hearing their impressions of medicine as they walk the fine line between layperson and medical person for the last time, I asked them all to write a letter to their future doctor selves from their novice doctor selves.  For example:

"Dear Future Me,

Don't ever forget to listen to your patients.  Never forget to be in awe of the privilege of doing this. . .

 Sincerely,

M1 Me."

Pretty amazing stuff.

Okay, so we bonded and laughed and got all cozy. I looked at their faces and watched their mannerisms carefully. Thinking about how familiar it would all become and savoring the newness of this time. Next I asked them to describe themselves in one word. My new small group (aka SG Gamma) is:

• adventurous
• neurotic
• humble
• sarcastic
• relaxed
• curious
• organized

They also seem pretty fun. Score!


Finally, after all of that, I hightail it over to Grady to round. I meet up with my resident and by the time I get there it's after lunch. Even though my tumbly is super rumbly, we hit the ground running. She brings me to speed on all of our patients that she'd managed with care all morning long. Lucky for me she was all over everything and we had a great time rounding. She taught me about Chinese names and the meaning behind hers. After that, I ask her if it's okay for me to call her by her Chinese name--"Chenlu"--because I think it's such a lovely name. She obliges.

So Chenlu and I stamp out disease all over Grady all afternoon and finally, finally we finish up and I have a minute to breath.

I am starved at this point. Famished both gastronomically and mentally. It's well after 3 PM by now and seriously? I just need a minute. My soul feels good from patient care but also drained a bit, too.

Do you ever feel that way? Full and hungry at the same time? Well, I do. My soul gets like that. . . .especially on crazy days like this.

And so. I take me a minute. Just like that. A minute for me.

I walk right out of the hospital and down Jesse Hill Jr. . . .to feed my stomach and my soul. . . .with some soul food.

Today I bring you something very simple. . . . 


The Top Ten Things I did after rounding on Friday to feed my soul.

#10 -- Kicking it to the Curb (Market.)

First, I took a walk to the curb market. The Sweet Auburn Curb Market is right up the street from Grady--and seriously? It has some of everything. Everything, do you hear me? Yes, there is food there. But the people, the noises, and the energy? The best.

#9 - Soul Food for real.

Here is my late, late lunch that I had on Friday. Sho' nuff soul food, for real. Collard greens, cabbage, fried corn shucked right off the cob, and black-eyed peas. And yes, people. That is a "hoecake" you see behind all that yummy goodness. (That would be a cornbread pancake, for you folks that don't know nothin' 'bout the dirty south.)

(Oh--and for the record--no hamhocks were harmed in the preparation of this food.)

#8 -- Talking to Mimi and Fred

Mimi and Fred are the couple that own the Metro Deli where I had that delicious veggie plate. I love sitting at the counter talking to them about anything and everything, especially when the lunch crowd has died down. This day, I was asking Mimi how she got so good at making American southern fare even though she was raised in Ethiopia. She told me that "soul is soul" and that as long as you have a "hand for spice and a feel for soul" then you can't go wrong.

She never does.

#7 -- Peeping out the vegetable stands in the curb market

This made me think of you, Sister Moon!

Every Thanksgiving and Christmas, the line is out the door at the Sweet Auburn Curb Market. This is where folks come to get their big bunches of collards, turnips, kale, and mustards. (See, when you live in the south, you get on a first name basis with your greens.) I can personally attest to the yummi-ness of these fresh vegetables. They are a crapload harder to clean, but it's worth it.

And they're dirt cheap, too. It's win-win.


#6 -- This I just looked at.

Ever wonder what they do with the rest of the pig? Wonder no more. A quick stroll up the street from the Gradys and the mystery will be over.

0_0

Um, yeah. (Sorry, I just threw up in my mouth a little bit.)


#5 -- Checked out these Big A-- Sweet Potatoes.

One day I was buying some sweet potatoes at this station and one of them started crying for a diaper change. Okay, maybe I'm exaggerating, but damn these yams are as big as somebody's baby! At least a 39-weeker, for real.

0_o

All I'm sayin' is this--one of these can make five pies. And a souffle for a family of six.

#4 -- Sweet Tea.

This is what annoys me about any travel west of the Mississippi--unsweetened tea! Dude! Keep your Sweet n' Lo and your Kool Aid. Give me some sweet tea. . . .I'm talkin' sweet tea that's still kind of warm from being brewed. . . and I'm all good.

Which reminds me. Mimi and Fred have yummy sweet tea.


#3 -- Gold Fronts.

This brother with gold fronts smiled at me wide and happy in the curb market. No, it wasn't Puff Daddy, but his golds were on the bottom row like this. Anyways. He waved from across the market and said,

"I see you, ma! I see you doin' your doctor thing! That's what's up."

And then he nodded and gave me two thumbs up.  It was kind of sweet.



#2 -- The Med Students.

One of these four guys gave me a hand-written card that I slipped into my pocket before walking to the curb market. It may have possibly been one of the kindest things I have ever received from any learner in a very long time. I read it at the Mimi and Fred's counter and it totally caught me off guard and made me tear up.

Mimi asked me what was wrong, and I told her nothing was wrong. Nothing at all. I simply let her read the card. She teared up, too.

#1 -- A minute to myself.

After all of that, I walked down the street toward Grady and felt the sun pouring all over my face and shoulders. I received it . . . .and then just looked around me. I smiled at the people passing by and said hi to the ones I knew and the ones I didn't know, too. I even hugged one Grady elder who said, "I be seeing you on Fox 5! Can I have a hug?" And I said, "Only if I can, too!"

Next I slipped into my office and took my shoes off. . . and leaned waaaaaaay back into my chair and reread that thoughtful, handwritten card. . . . . .

Yeah.

My stomach was full of soul food and my soul was fed, too. Yes, it was.

***
Happy Soul-filled Sunday.

Now playing on my mental iPod. . . .before ATL-ien Cee-Lo Green was on mainstream iPods. . .