Category Archives: food

Myocardial Monday – HFCS

High Fructose Corn Syrup

Last week, Nonna asked about this, and rather than give the topic short shrift, I figured I’d cover it with heaping mounds of verbiage and ridiculous detail. So if you’re ready to learn, here we go:

What is it?
HFCS is a sweetener made from corn. It sounds strange; how do you make something sweet from corn, without it tasting like corn? It’s actually pretty simple.

Corn is mostly starch, and starch is just sugar wearing a fake nose and glasses. It only takes a bit of a nudge to turn the corn starch into the sweet stuff.

On a side note, “sugar” itself isn’t just one thing, but is the all-encompassing name for a group of similar molecules (“saccharides”) that taste sweet: fructose, glucose, lactose, maltose and a ton of other oses. Fructose is the sugar primarily found in fruits, lactose is the sugar that is in milk, and glucose is the sugar that your brain needs to function. That white crystal stuff that’s sitting in your sugar bowl is actually a double whammy (a “disaccharide”) of two sugars linked together: fructose and glucose. In this form it’s called “sucrose” – or table sugar.

Starch is what’s known to the chemistry geeks as a “polysaccharide”, or a big long chain of sugars. Think of it as a necklace made out of little sugar beads all strung together. To turn this pasty molecular chain into something yummy, the starch is “hydrolyzed” (this is the technical term for bonking something with water molecules) and the chain is effectively blasted apart. Before all the little beads end up clattering all over the floor of the Petri dish, they grab the hydrogen/oxygen pairs of the water molecules and change their name to glucose. Now, it’s sugar.

Then, to make it “go to eleven”, chemists take the resultant sugary goop and run it by some chemical workers called enzymes to force some of the glucose into becoming fructose. Thus, the corn syrup becomes richer in fructose, making it “high fructose” corn syrup. Get it?

Here’s a good place to note that your body can do this hydrolyzation thing without even breaking a sweat. This is why starchy food like potatoes and bread can really mess with your blood sugar level; the starches are converted into sugars by your digestive process.

Why is it in everything?
Not only can it make things taste better, it’s used to add volume, make bread softer, preserve food, assist with product fluid consistency and bump up calorie count. It’s the wonder additive that can work wonders. Better living through Science! Yup.

Why HFCS and not sugar?
HFCS is cheap. A whole lot cheaper that sugar. Why, you ask? Especially when sugar comes naturally and HFCS has to be made chemically? For that answer, you have to set the wayback machine to a few decades ago, and take a hard look at what our friends at Archer Daniels Midland have done. I won’t go into great detail here (you can read about it yourself), but suffice it to say that ADM (“Supermarket to the World”) lobbied the government to keep sugar prices high and make corn subsidies plentiful. They played games with the market so they’d come out ahead and could sell their uber-cheap HFCS to anyone who wanted it. And food manufacturers flocked to their door.

Is High Fructose Corn Syrup bad?
No, not on its own. It’s no worse than any other natural sweetener. It’s not going to destroy your liver or turn your skin into jelly, give you lyme disease, chronic fatigue, pigeon toes, rot your bowels or cause you to break out in weeping ulcers. It’s just sugar. The problem isn’t the stuff itself, it’s the abundance of the stuff.

It’s very hard to find any processed food that doesn’t contain HFCS. Go to the supermarket and read the ingredient labels on the foods you buy and you’ll see what I mean.

The HFCS promoters say “It’s fine in moderation.” Well, sure it is. But I challenge anyone to go through a day of normal eating given a typical American diet and end up having consumed HFCS in moderation. That’s like standing out in the rain all day and being told you’ll only get a little moist.

What to do about it?
Don’t stand in the rain. The food manufacturers have to provide an ingredients list, so take advantage of that fact. Stick to things that don’t use HFCS if at all possible. You’ll get enough sugar in the fruits and grains and starchy foods you eat.

It’s really not that hard, and you can actually lose weight without knocking a crumb of food out of your daily intake.

Myocardial Monday

I was scrounging through the thesaurus I keep right here hoping to find an “m” word for “healthy”, but came out of it quite disappointed. Michael’s mommy, ever the bright one, suggested for this weekly segment the title you see here. Alliteration is good. Having it make some sense is even better.

Today I’m going to rave about the wonderfulness of a series of books my wife and I discovered fairly recently.

Eat This, Not That gives the real scoop on nutrition, and presents it in a way that enlightens and entertains without making the reader feel guilty.

There are three books in the series. The first gives a general overview of the whole concept, the second deals strictly with successful navigation of the supermarket, and the third targets kids’ foods.

The author names names and pulls no punches in delivering the dirt on products you’ll find all over, how much nutrition they contain, and more aptly, how much non-nutrition they contain.

He compares similar products from different brands/franchises, giving the reader a way to make a smart choice.

The basic idea is that the food industry has taken over our lives, and is surreptitiously manipulating our taste buds to want things sweeter, saltier and more fat-laden than we would naturally. It’s amazing to find out how High Fructose Corn Syrup has made its way into nearly everything you buy at the grocery store, and how even foods that have the outward appearance of being healthy have been altered and processed to the point where they’re no better than the “unhealthy” version of the same thing.

Since reading these books, we’ve learned that there are a few very simple rules to follow when shopping that will save us hundreds of calories every day without having to sacrifice our wants, without forcing us to count calories or measure portion sizes, and it pretty much guarantees weight loss.

This isn’t to say that he’s advocating a particular diet as much as he promotes “wising up” of the shopper to make better food choices to maximize nutrition and minimize empty, useless caloric intake.

If you’re at all interested in making even the smallest positive change in your eating habits, I highly recommend the “Eat This, Not That” series.

The First Steps

Slowly but surely, we’re getting on with our new life.

Michael’s mommy is recovering. Her new medications may be helping the crucial problem of fending off plaque buildup in her arteries, but they’re also making her feel like she’s got a bad case of restless leg stomach flu. With a side of insomnia.

Meanwhile, we’re scouring the metro area looking for actual food.

Let me explain.

One of the things we have learned, as a result of this surprise, is that our biggest enemy in the fight for health is the food supply. And not just from restaurants, but from the supermarket. If you’re not extremely careful and wise in your selections, you will load your grocery cart up with more calories than you’ll ever need, and less nutrition than you’d believe.

Even things promising a “healthy” option aren’t necessarily so, since nearly every pre-packaged, processed food is overrun with High Fructose Corn Syrup, sodium and myriad unpronounceable, mysterious additives.

And restaurants have their part in the comestible chaos that reigns out there. Portion sizes are the biggest problem. Since the 1970s, portions have nearly doubled. And not just with the food, with the sugar-drenched drinks as well. Remember when a large soft drink at McDonald’s was about 20 ounces? Between then and now, it swelled up to 42 ounces. Yikes.

All this to say we’ve discovered that the deck was stacked against us. We’re thwarted at every turn.

But we’ve learned our lesson. Our eyes are wide open now, and we know where to steer to find the things that are proper to eat, to maximize nutrition while providing the proper caloric intake for dad, mom and kids.

I’ve long said that I want to be around to see my kids grow up and have children of their own (if for no other reason, than so I can have the satisfaction of seeing them go through what their mom and I go through every day; and I hope Michael has twins). But I very likely would not have made it that far if we’d kept up our standard dietary habits. Every day I’d wake up tired, run down, sore and wishing I could just take a break for a while.

Since we’ve started eating right, I feel ten years younger and a whole lot more alive. I feel like there’s hope for my wife and me to reach our golden wedding anniversary, which is still 45 years in the future.

So watch this space. Every Monday I shall present facts and recipes for a healthier lifestyle. In between time, of course, you’ll be subjected to the usual rambling palaver.

Chicken? What Chicken?

“See, daddy? I did finish all my chicken! Now can I have more noodles?”

Goodies

Over at World of Weasels, the infamous WeaselMomma is having a birthday party!

In honor of this auspicious occasion, and also to further highlight the treat-tastic goodness that is the Christmas season, I offer up a recipe for an old family favorite, Mintsticks. This recipe has been handed down for countless generations. Okay, so it’s just three. But anyway, they’re really good.

Basically, we’re constructing three layer brownies.

Base:
1/2 cup butter
1/2 cup sifted flour
2 oz. unsweetened chocolate
1/2 tsp peppermint extract
1/2 cup chopped almonds
1 cup sugar
2 eggs
dash of salt

Grease a 9″ square cake pan, preheat oven to 350. Melt chocolate and butter together over low heat. In a large bowl, beat eggs until frothy. Stir in sugar, chocolate mixture and peppermint. Add flour, salt and almonds. Mix just until batter comes together. Pour into pan and bake for 20 – 25 minutes.

Filling:
4 tbsp soft butter
2 cups sifted powdered sugar
1 1/2 tsp peppermint extract
2 tbsp heavy cream

While brownie base is baking, mix filling ingredients together until smooth. Set aside.

When brownie base is done and has cooled sufficiently to hold the pan in your hand, spread the filling evenly over the top. Refrigerate for one hour.

Glaze:
1 oz unsweetened chocolate
1 tbsp butter

Melt together over low heat. Dribble over cooled brownies and tilt pan back and forth to cover completely. Refrigerate until glaze is hardened.

Cut into 1″ squares and serve.

Enjoy! But beware – these are intense and loaded with calories. Use cautiously. Or not.

Love Is…

…standing at the kitchen sink rinsing chunks of orange chicken with hot water because your kid doesn’t like the orange sauce.

…changing the channel from what you were watching on HGTV over to the Bears/Vikings game because you know your husband likes to watch the game but usually puts up with SpongeBob instead.

Ah, Leftovers

There is nothing in this world quite as delicious as a heaping plate of Thanksgiving leftovers.

My only complaint are the bright yellow jelly beans. They taste sort of like an old electric sewing machine motor. But the popcorn was top notch this year.

Hope everyone had a great Thanksgiving!

Crisis!

We need an economic bailout and fast! I’m not talking about Goldman – Sachs, Shearson – Lehman, Pratt & Whitney, or Mackenzie, Brackman, Cheney, Kuzak & Becker. I’m talking about Mother’s Cookies.

They have shut their doors. They’ve darkened the factory, cooled the ovens, tossed the sprinkles and scrubbed the rolling pins. Evidently this happened in mid October of this year, and only now the shock wave has reached us consumers. Check for yourself.

This is bad, folks. Very, very bad.

Mother’s made the Taffy cookies. It’s bad enough that they’re gone now. Mother’s also made the Double Fudge cookies, the English Tea cookies, Iced Oatmeal, Chocolate Chip and Peanut Butter Gauchos, to name a few.

But that’s not what has me down.

It’s the Frosted Circus Animals.

Those pink and white morsels of delight, those frosted and sprinkled wonders, the miniature party in a bag, the cookie that has tasted good since you were two years old and never stopped being your yummy little friend, the cookie that lured your inner child to the surface like a snake charmer, no matter how thick your adult veneer might be.

This cookie is no longer to be. It has become extinct.

Is this where the economic crisis has brought us? To heck with the housing market, stock market, lending industry, automobile industry and export rates. We’re talking about cookies here!

How will we withstand it? How can we, as Americans, sit idly by while our cookie heritage is being thrown by the wayside? What will become of us? How can we look our sweet, little doe-eyed children in the face and tell them that there will be no more Frosted Circus Animals? Future generations will know nothing of the entirely delicious, sugar-laden, sprinkle-bedecked glory that was the Frosted Circus Animal cookie. We can tell them about it wistfully, with fond remembrance, but they shall scoff and maybe make some remark about how they couldn’t possibly be better than Keebler’s Pecan Sandies. Oh, how that will burn.

But Mother’s is closed, their Frosted Circus Animals are but a memory, and so it shall be.

Goodbye, little cookie.

I’m going to go sit in a corner and weep now. No, I don’t want any Oreos.

Signs That I Am Outside The Circle

Daddy is making coffee, hurrying to get out the door and off to work.

Mama has Michael set down in his spot at the table with a glass of juice and is quizzing him about his breakfast choice.

Mama: “Michael, what do you want for breakfast?”

Michael: “Uh, um, Purple!”

Mama: “Okay, I understand that.” She then moves on to ask him what he wants in his lunch at Ms K’s.

Meanwhile, I’m still puzzled. Purple? Do we have a food that is purple?

I realize that this is one of those instances where you just don’t ask questions.

Michael’s New Sister, part II

K-san arrived at our home with gifts, and it seemed like they never stopped. Every day she was pulling some new present out of her bag: a Furoshiki gift-wrapping cloth, chopsticks, a teapot and Japanese green tea, a DVD showing life in her home city.

But it was Wednesday night that really topped it. She cooked us all dinner. She made Okonomiyaki, a sort of Japanese pancake filled with whatever happens to fit the mood of the chef. The name literally means “what you like.”

Sister B knew that K-san would be making us dinner, and all day had chirped to us excitedly that it would be some sort of Japanese pizza with various toppings. The ingredients we had picked up at the store seemed innocuous enough: eggs, cabbage, special Japanese flour. Sister B was thrilled at the thought of helping her out in the kitchen and learning to make something new and exotic for us all.

When time came to prepare the feast, K-san ushered sister B into the kitchen and explained, in her best English, what was needed. B was put to work chopping cabbage.

I watched as K-san very carefully measured this and that into a large mixing bowl, then asked to use the wire whisk. And of course she asked the use the one we never actually use ourselves, the one that’s been sitting in the kitchen utensils holder as more of a decoration than actual kitchen implement, having developed a dense strata of alternating layers of grease and dust for the past five years. After a thorough washing, I handed it to her and she started in, checking the consistency of the batter after every few strokes. It was marvelous to see someone other than my wife or myself in that kitchen whipping up a delectable repast with confidence and skill.

Satisfied that things were well under control and anticipating a delicious dinner, I sat at the computer and wrote about the events of previous days.

Soon I felt B approaching behind me, and heard her say quietly: “Daddy, it’s dried shrimp! Dried shrimp and cabbage, with fish flakes on top!”

Being an unbending, confirmed non-vegetable and non-seafood picky eater type of person, B was in what we commonly call a colossal quandary. The look on her face was priceless. I only wish I had a photo of her expression so that I could savor it forever. Evidently K-san had brought with her a few ingredients from home (no doubt guarding against lack of adequate culinary diversity in our boorish little town) and had kept them concealed until just then.

As it turned out, dinner was delicious. Even Michael thought so.

His favorite part was the fact that the little dried fish flakes (Katsuobushi) waved and gyrated on top of his food, almost like they’re excited at the thought of their imminent consumption.

Despite her rave reviews, I have my doubts that B will be preparing us this dinner in the near future, or ever, and she’ll probably never order it off the menu anywhere except in Japan, and then only to be polite to a prospective host family there. So it’s very likely our kitchen will not be seeing the likes of K-san’s cooking again.

And that is a real shame.