Saturday, June 13, 2020

James Baldwin: "Rejoice in the fact of death"

Life is tragic simply because the earth turns and the sun inexorably rises and sets, and one day, for each of us, the sun will go down for the last, last time. Perhaps the whole root of our trouble, the human trouble, is that we will sacrifice all the beauty of our lives, will imprison ourselves in totems, taboos, crosses, blood sacrifices, steeples, mosques, races, armies, flags, nations, in order to deny the fact of death, the only fact we have. It seems to me that one ought to rejoice in the fact of death—ought to decide, indeed, to earn one's death by confronting with passion the conundrum of life. One is responsible for life: It is the small beacon in that terrifying darkness from which we come and to which we shall return. 
~James Baldwin, The Fire Next Time

Saturday, May 9, 2020

Food: Pleasure and Beauty

"Tell me what you eat, and I will tell you what you are," Brillat-Savarin wrote in his masterwork, The Physiology of Taste, a collection of recipes and parables with topics ranging from "the inconvenience of obesity," to digestion, to food's effect on dreams, and so much more.

In investigating food's relationship to the body, however, Brillat Savarin probed deeply into the nature of food as a tonic for the soul:

"Those who have been too long at their labor, who have drunk too long at the cup of voluptuousness, who feel they have become temporarily inhumane, who are tormented by their families, who find life sad and love ephemeral...they should all eat chocolate and they will be comforted."

Elsewhere he asks of Adam and Eve, "You first parents of the human race … who ruined yourselves for an apple, what might you not have done for a truffled turkey?"

When thinking about diet, or sitting down to dinner, it often strikes me that comfort, and for that matter, pleasure, beauty, and happiness, is at least as important as nutrition.

After all, how you eat is an essential expression of who you are. And often, this expression has little to do with what you eat. A cupcake eaten with joy is superior to a bowl of brown rice eaten with penance. Good food, eaten with good company, inspires an inner joy so simple and sustaining that even a tiny olive fulfills. Without this joy, the most wholesome food can seem tasteless and unsatisfying.

In this spirit, I hope to offer a smattering of "lockdown recipes," each developed with wholesomeness and pleasure in mind.
Waking Up: The Morning Elixir 
The “morning elixir”--the term was coined, to the best of my knowledge, by Paul Pritchford--refers to a morning cleansing drink. Often, upon awakening, we are thirsty but not hungry; often, too, our stomachs are empty, and we might benefit from a cleansing elixir.

Depending upon your constitution, typical elixirs might include purified water, herbal tea, warm broth, vegetable juices, greens drinks, or fresh lemon juice in purified water.

For years, my preferred morning elixir was inner-ēco™ Coconut Water Probiotic Kefir, a probiotic drink. Lately, I've also enjoyed Four Sigmatic Chaga Mushrooms.

After my morning tonic, I fast (see below) until lunch or sometimes until dinner, drinking only one cup of organic coffee with theanine in the morning and organic green tea or organic turmeric tea in the afternoon.

Bulk Supplements L-Theanine Powder

Ocha and Company Organic Sencha Tea

Rishi Turmeric-Ginger Tea

Time-Restricted Eating

I’ve followed a routine of time-restricted eating for a decade or more. Most people might do this inadvertently, but most of us also snack and nibble throughout the day between meals. For me, the key is to not eat anything between meals, for a period of 12-22 hours or more.

My personal practice is quite simple: I skip breakfast. By skipping breakfast, I usually create about 16 hours (from about 8:30 PM the previous night to 12:30 PM that day) when I do not consume food.

The emerging science behind intermittent fasting has discovered that when fasting our bodies may switch from growth to repair mode--a process known as "autophagy."

A Japanese scientist, Yoshinori Ohsumi, won the 2016 Novel Prize for "his discoveries of mechanisms for autophagy." As the prize committee states: autophagy is "a fundamental process for degrading and recycling cellular components."

Rhonda Patrick on Autophagy

More on Time-Restricted Eating Improving Healthspan

More importantly, however, time-restricted eating has helped me discover a greater joy in my diet. I am more conscientious about how, why, and when I do eat I am truly hungry.

Morning Recipes
A Perfect Pot of Oatmeal

This recipe, which I originally developed for Whole Foods, takes cues from both Cook's Illustrated, who suggest using longer-cooking steel-cut oats and Peter Berley, who suggests soaking the oats overnight in a souring agent, such as yogurt, to promote lactic-acid formation. The final dish is delicious and creamy with a slight tang. Steel-cut oats take longer to cook than rolled oats, but much of the cooking time requires minimal attention.

1 cup steel-cut oats
3 1/2 cups spring water
1/4 cup plain full-fat yogurt
1/2 teaspoon kosher salt
Fresh sliced apples, yogurt, or nuts for topping

In a heavy saucepan, combine the oats, water, and yogurt. Cover the pan and soak overnight, 8 to 10 hours.

In the morning, put the saucepan over medium-high heat and bring to a lively simmer. Simmer gently for 20 minutes. Add the salt and stir lightly with a wooden spoon. Continue simmering, stirring occasionally with a wooden spoon, until oats have absorbed most of the water and the oatmeal is thick and creamy, 5-7 minutes.

Let the oatmeal stand off the heat for 5 minutes. Serve topped with fresh apple slices, yogurt, or crushed nuts.

Other Good Morning Options:

Berlin Bakery Spelt Bread

Magic Spoon Cereal

How to Poach a Perfect Egg

During "normal" life, many of us eat hurried lunches in harried environments. If anything, the quarantine offers an opportunity to recalibrate our relationship with lunch.

My own relationship with lunch is informed by the time I spent in Italy and Spain during my early twenties. Both cultures view lunch as the main meal, a time to rest and relax with family and friends.

When I do not have time for a proper lunch, I often fast or eat simply: a few poached eggs or sardines and salad. When I do have time for a proper lunch, I inevitably start with soup, the true centerpiece of my diet, perhaps my life. I also usually eat tempeh and salad.

Carrot Ginger Soup

3 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil or grassfed butter
2 medium onions (preferably sweet onions), diced
1/2 cup crystallized ginger, chopped
1 tablespoon minced fresh ginger
1 tablespoon minced fresh turmeric
1 teaspoon dried turmeric powder
Sea salt
5 pounds carrots, peeled and sliced into 1/4" slices
5 cups vegetable stock or bone broth
1 1/2 teaspoon baking soda
1 cup full fat coconut milk
1 tablespoon apple cider vinegar

In a soup pot, heat the oil over medium heat. Add the onion and a pinch of salt, cover, turn heat to low, and sauté until translucent, 10-12 minutes. Add the crystallized ginger, fresh ginger, fresh turmeric, turmeric powder, and1 teaspoon sea salt. Cook over medium heat, stirring, for two minutes.

Add broth, carrots, and baking soda.  Increase heat to high and bring soup to a simmer.  Cover and reduce heat.  Cook until carrots are tender (20-25 minutes).

When cooled, working in small batches, puree soup with coconut milk in blender until very smooth.  Return pureed soup to pot and add carrot juice and vinegar.  Bring to a simmer.  Add salt to taste.

Pan-Seared Zucchini 

In this recipe, thick rounds of zucchini are seared in a piping hot pan — cast iron is best — until just blackened, then tossed with olive oil. This is a summer recipe that adapts easily to most seasons. In Philly, we get local zukes (hothouse) throughout the fall, even into the winter, but summer zukes are undoubtedly the best.

2 tablespoons extra virgin olive oil
1/4 teaspoon sea salt
2 large green zucchini

Slice zucchini into large rounds. Warm a 10-inch skillet (cast iron is best) until very hot. Place zucchini in pan and sear over high heat, until blackened, 2 to 3 minutes. Flip onto other side and sear additional 2 to 3 minutes, until both sides are blackened. Toss with olive oil and sea salt. Serve as is or with mashed avocado.

Good Lunchtime Recipes:

Moroccan Chermoula Tempeh

A Perfect Pot of Rice 

Blackened Jalapeño and Avocado Dipping Sauce

I look forward to dinner all day. To me, dinner is the point. Dinner absolves the day's hassles. Dinner redeems the day's failures. Without dinner, the day has no structure, no purpose. Dinner is not only food--it is communion, with others, with ourselves. Immersed in our daytime ambitions and jobs and twitter accounts, we might lose sight of those we love; we might lose sight of ourselves. Dinner saves us. When we sit down to dinner, we settle back into ourselves; we become human again.

Perfect Grilled Chicken

One small chicken - 3 1/2 pounds
Sea salt
To stuff: 1 chopped onion, lemon, or apple

Pat the chicken very dry and season on all sides with sea salt, sugar, and brown sugar. Air dry on a rack in the refrigerator for 1 to 3 days before cooking. Before cooking, stuff the bird with any of following: chopped onion, lemon, or apple.

When you're ready to grill the chicken, cook breast-side down over indirect heat on medium-high (400-425 degrees) for 25 minutes. With a pair of tongs, flip the bird breast-side up for another 25 minutes.

Remove the chicken from the grill and set on a cutting board. Cut the chicken into pieces and serve.

Perfect Mashed Potatoes

5 pounds Russet potatoes, peeled and left whole

4-6 tablespoons grassfed butter
1/2 cup coconut milk (full-fat is best)
1 1/2 teaspoons salt
Fresh ground black pepper

Place the potatoes in a large saucepan with water to cover. Bring to a boil, reduce heat to medium and simmer until the potatoes are tender, 25-35 minutes. Drain. Reserve pot for mashing.

Meanwhile, warm the coconut milk in a medium saucepan over low heat. Season the coconut milk with sea salt, and black pepper to taste.

While still warm, cut each potato and place the potatoes, skin-on, into a food ricer or food mill. Extrude into empty pot.

Alternately, gently mash the potatoes with a potato masher.

Add grassfed butter. Add the warmed coconut milk, and gently season with additional salt and pepper, adjusting seasonings to taste.

Boiled Potatoes with Grassfed Butter and Herbs

1 1/2 pounds petite red or fingerling potatoes
1 1/2 tablespoons grassfed salted butter
1/2 tablespoon extra virgin olive oil
Sea salt
freshly ground black pepper

Place potatoes in a medium saucepan. Cover with cold water. Bring to a boil, then reduce heat and simmer gently until potatoes are just tender when pierced with a knife, 18 to 20 minutes. Drain well.

In a small mixing bowl, add butter, olive oil, and sea salt to taste to drained potatoes and toss well. Taste and adjust seasoning, adding additional salt and pepper if needed.

Good Dinnertime Recipes:

Three Kickass Chickpea Recipes

Greatest Roast Potatoes Ever

Serious Eats Sweet Mashed Potatoes

Coconut Milk Braised Greens

Saturday, May 2, 2020

Immunity: Diversity and Unity

Medical literature often describes the immune system as a wartime defense strategy against invaders.

"Without an immune system," Medical News Today writes, "our bodies would be open to attack...It is our immune system that keeps us healthy as we drift through a sea of pathogens."

"When functioning properly," LiveScience writes, "the immune system identifies and attacks a variety of threats...while distinguishing them from the body’s own healthy tissue."

While true, these definitions tend to downplay the adaptive function of the immune system--in attacking invaders, immune cells also produce antibodies, which assimilate or harmonize the invader, rendering it less harmful. This is also the function of a vaccine. This is also why many of us may have cross-reactive antibodies (from suffering other forms of coronavirus), which may help if we get infected with this new coronavirus.

As my friend and teacher, the doctor and poet C. Dale Young writes on Facebook:

"We all have been infected by a coronavirus at one time or another. Therefore, even though this is a new virus, many of its proteins have been seen by your immune system before. Even if infected, your immune system can fight it off."

Read: "How the Immune System Works"

A Metaphorical View of Immunity

Viewed metaphorically, I think, these two functions of the immune system, attack and adapt, speak to any number of current ways of thinking about our world.

In recent years, for example, even as the fear of invaders has seemingly spread across the world--in calls for border walls and Brexit-style isolationism--more and more people are beginning to see the vital importance of living in harmony not only with each other but with nature.

In his famous encyclical, Laudato si', Pope Francis writes movingly of humans living in harmony with nature:

"There is a growing sensitivity to the environment and the need to protect nature, along with a growing concern, both genuine and distressing, for what is happening to our planet… Our goal is not to amass information or to satisfy curiosity, but rather to become painfully aware, to dare to turn what is happening to the world into our own personal suffering and thus to discover what each of us can do about it."

When thinking about immunity, I urge you to be wary of unwanted invaders--to stay at home, wash your hands, and practice distancing, when possible.

But I also urge you to think holistically about immunity as an adaptive process  What's so empowering about this view, I believe, is that by working on your own immunity you cultivate a harmonizing power that can transform yourself and the world around you.

Whenever I think about my own connection to the environment, I remember the happiness of my early-eighties childhood, when the grass was nothing less than "the flag of my disposition, out of hopeful green stuff woven."

What Can We Do?
I cannot read these lines from Pope Francis without thinking about our current crisis, which in so many ways feels like a call to "discover what each of us can do."

For those of us sheltering in place, this call is partly spiritual and partly practical: How can we live right now to help ourselves and each other emerge from this crisis stronger and more unified, equipped to battle the next crisis with equanimity and resolve?

Humanity has shown, again and again, that we can emerge from a crisis stronger and more unified--after any number of assaults, we have adapted and evolved as a people.

One of my favorite examples is the Victory Gardens of World War I and II, when the National War Garden Commission encouraged Americans to grow gardens so more food could be exported to our European allies. After the second war, especially, the Victory Gardens proved tremendously successful:

"In 1942, roughly 15 million families planted victory gardens; by 1944, an estimated 20 million victory gardens produced roughly 8 million tons of food—which was the equivalent of more than 40 percent of all the fresh fruits and vegetables consumed in the United States" (source).

Gardens feel relevant to our current crisis, too, even beyond the fear of shortages that have prompted more people to plant gardens. A garden is one way for a human to connect with the earth in a way that enhances the health of both. The key, in both cases, is the land itself--the dirt.

Immunity and the Hygiene Hypothesis
An increasing body of scientific evidence supports the "hygiene hypothesis," the notion that our modern sterile environments, in our living and working environments as well as our bodies, weakens our immune response.

As Kathleen Barnes, a Johns Hopkins Medical School researcher, said in a Science Talk podcast on the hygiene hypotheses:

"As we make the shift from dirt to[e] the direction of your immune response. And so in the context of asthma, and...other autoimmune diseases and diseases of inflammation, it's this imbalance from that side of our immune response that we believe evolved to protect us against things like bacteria and the other side of our immune system that, frankly, when it's revved up causes diseases like allergies and...other diseases of inflammation."

The sterile environment engendered by antibiotics and antibacterial soaps, detergents, and household cleaning products, not to mention the chemicals in our food and water systems, decrease the biodiversity of our microbiomes and increase our resistance to life-saving antibiotics.

These same chemicals are a scourge to our natural systems, creating polluted waterways, which run into the ocean and exacerbating the problem of fallow farmlands in America, far worse than the original Dust Bowl.

Zach Bush, the triple board-certified doctor, speaks eloquently of these issues, specifically on several life-changing episodes of The Rich Roll Podcast. I recommend Zach's recent appearance, in which hie discussed a "Pandemic of Possibility," but I implore you to listen to his first two appearances on Rich Roll, in which Zach explores the GMOs, gut health, and the science of human and planetary transformation. I can truly say that these podcasts changed my life.

Listen: "Zach Bush, MD On GMO’s, Glyphosate, and Healing The Gut"

Listen: "Zach Bush, MD on the Science and Spirituality of Human and Planetary Transformation"

Elsewhere, Zach states "the problem" of our current relationship with the environment quite bluntly:

"A century of mono-crop farming and reliance on pesticides has damaged our nation’s once-fertile soils and the health of every American. The rapid increase in pesticide use over the past few decades has coincided with this explosion of chronic disease."

The solution to this problem, as Zach and others have noted, is a return to "regenerative agriculture."  Zach has even created an organization to help farmers: Farmer's Footprint

The scope of this problem, like the current pandemic, feels overwhelming, especially when viewed on the micro-level, from your own perspective. Yet you can make changes now to help yourself and the planet, supporting the immunity of both.

The key is engendering bacterial diversity and unity within and without. Practically speaking, this means supporting brands that offer safe alternatives to household products as well as supporting agriculture that promotes ecological diversity in the environment and your own body.

To do so, eat an abundance of fresh fruits and vegetables from local farms. Tend to your inner garden with fermented foods or, if necessary, gut-supporting supplements, like Just Thrive or Zach's mineral supplement to "support the integrity of tight junctions in the gut lining": ION* Gut Health. Or try quality "probiotic" foods, like inner-ēco Coconut Kefir.

And FYI: You do not need to wash your hands with anti-bacterial soap right now. Source: FDA.

Supporting Immunity Strategically
Changing your lifestyle by synching with nature (emotionally, spiritually, and biologically) is the best way to support immunity. Beyond engendering a diverse ecosystem within and without, pay attention to both defense against attack as well as the adaptive side of immunity.

Even at home, we have at our disposal any number of adaptive strategies to improve immune function, including cold therapy, mindfulness, exercise, and sleep, which plays a crucial role in regulating the activity of our Natural Killer T-Cells.

However, of course, in the time of COVID 19, you may feel a need to support immunity with supplementation.

First, try to ignore the apparent hype surrounding a variety of "immune-boosting" formulas, which seem to miss the concept of immunity entirely:

"The immune system is not designed to be 'boosted', and if it were able to work in overdrive it could actually result in us becoming more unwell by damaging our healthy cells and tissue as well, which is what can happen in 'autoimmune' conditions."

Second, focus on the supplements that arrive with sound scientific evidence, including Vitamin D (1), Zinc (1), Vitamin C, Sulphorphane, and possibly others, like selenium.


Dr. Bronner's Soap

Our Favorite Laundry Detergent: Molly's Suds

Our Favorite Dishwasher Tabs: Ecover Automatic Dishwasher Tabs

Our Favorite Toothpaste: Weleda Natural Salt Toothpaste


Life Extension Zinc Lozenges

Vitamin C

There is evidence that Vitamin C can fight the common cold, reduce respiratory symptoms, boost immunity, and alleviate the body's response to stress.

The best form of Vitamin C (especially if you intend to take larger doses if you get sick) may be liposomal. But remember, since Vitamin C is water-soluble, you'll likely want to take it throughout the day to maintain your levels.

NutriFlair Liposomal Vitamin C

Dacha Liposomal Vitamin C

Rhonda Patrick on Vitamin C

Vitamin D3 with K2

Reasonable sun exposure (without burning) is the best way to get Vitamin D, but supplementation is likely necessary right now for most of us on the East Coast. Even then, I'm guessing all of us, if tested, would have low vitamin-D levels.

As noted in a major global study, optimized Vitamin D levels protect against "acute respiratory infections including colds and flu."

Most experts feel that taking Vitamin D3 with K2 increases absorption.

If you're not currently taking vitamin D3 supplement with K2, you might consider the following:

Thorne Research Vitamin D3 and K2 Liquid Drops

Micro Ingredients Vitamin D3 and K2 Softgels

Saturday, April 25, 2020

Mood: How to Optimize Your Emotional Resilience

How do you feel? We hear this question so often, in so many different contexts, and our answer is invariably the same: "Good." Or perhaps, "Fine."

Yet, during any given day, how often do we stop to sincerely consider this question.

How do I feel? How do I feel right now?

Learning to improve your health is often about learning to answer this question with pinpoint accuracy. Is this possible? I believe so. Over the coming days and weeks, I urge you to ask yourself this question and to answer honestly with self-compassion.

Today, I will discuss how to answer this question. I will also offer specific tools for optimizing the answer, whatever it may be.
Handsome Sad Clown
The Gut-Brain Axis
When asking yourself this question in the context of mood, specifically, the first thing you'll likely note is that your mood is never merely about your feelings (your emotions). The answer is usually equal parts body and mind.

The condition of your gut, for example, inevitably informs the condition of your mind. For many years, in fact, I have focused on this connection as a simple yet powerful guide to improving my own mood.

In a well-referenced article from Psychology TodayMarwa Azab Ph.D., writes: "There is bidirectional communication between the gut and the brain."

This communication network, known as the gut-brain axis, is becoming the subject of more and more research, including studies examining the connection between gut health and psychiatric, mood, and stress-related disorders.

As Azab notes, the gut manufactures over 90 percent of our serotonin, and "scientists have found that gut bacteria produce many other neurotransmitters such as dopamine, norepinephrine, acetylcholine, and GABA, which are critical for mood, anxiety, concentration, reward, and motivation."

Of course, this is obvious to anyone who has ever experienced butterflies in the stomach or enjoyed the comfort of a home-cooked meal prepared with love.

About that home-cooked meal: Research has also shown that a balanced diet with a variety of plant foods is the best way to improve gut health by diversifying the microbiome.

The American Gut Project, for example, found that "those who consumed more than 30 different types of plants each week had much more diverse microbiomes than those who consumed only 10 or fewer types of plants weekly."

Read: "Largest Microbiome Study Weighs in on Our Gut Health"

Beyond your diet, you might also try a probiotic which has been clinically researched, like Just Thrive.

Try a mineral supplement to "support the integrity of tight junctions in the gut lining": ION* Gut Health.

Try quality "probiotic" foods, like raw fermented vegetables or inner-ēco Coconut Kefir.

Do you eat 30 different plans each week?
To Feel Good, You Have Options, Both Mental and Physical
The gut-brain connection proves a simple, yet profound, point about mood: to improve your mood, you have multiple options, both physical and mental.

Of course, no intervention is merely physical or mental. This dichotomy does not exist. As an extremely active person, however, I see the value in viewing mood-improvement as an equation: I may not always feel equipped to engage in an explicitly "mental" activity, like meditation, but I can engage in "physical" activity, like exercise, to improve my state of mind.

A recent study published in JAMA Psychiatry "saw a 26% decrease in odds for becoming depressed for each major increase in objectively measured physical activity."

Such physical activity does not need to be fanatical: "This increase in physical activity is what you might see on your activity tracker if you replaced 15 minutes of sitting with 15 minutes of running, or one hour of sitting with one hour of moderate activity like brisk walking."

Just gently moving throughout the day, the study authors note, can make a difference: "any kind of movement can add up to keep depression at bay."

My tip? Why not take a walk in the early morning sunshine--and improve your mood and your circadian rhythms?

Watch this clip with Satchin Panda, a sleep researcher at the Salk Institute: "How exposure to light in the evening affects mood and the circadian clock."

Your Autonomic Nervous System
The tips above, like most tips for improving mood, focus on balance. And finding a balance between mind and body is often the best way to improve your mood.

In itself, the notion of finding balance may seem esoteric, the sort of mumbo-jumbo you hear repeated in any number of "natural" health publications.

However, balance can be quantified in a precise way. One recent determinant is heart rate variability (HRV), a measure of the variation between two heartbeats.

Whether you measure your HRV or not, learning about the diagnostic tool can offer profound insights into your health.

As Marcelo Campos recently noted on the Harvard Health Blog:

"This variation is controlled by a primitive part of the nervous system called the autonomic nervous system (ANS). It works regardless of our desire and regulates, among other things, our heart rate, blood pressure, breathing, and digestion. The ANS is subdivided into two large components, the sympathetic and the parasympathetic nervous system, also known as the fight-or-flight mechanism and the relaxation response."

Read: Heart Rate Variability: A New Way to Track Well-Being 

Recently, many of us have been living in a state of near-total fight-or-flight. As Campos notes:

"If we have persistent instigators such as stress, poor sleep, unhealthy diet, dysfunctional relationships, isolation or solitude, and lack of exercise, this balance may be disrupted, and your fight-or-flight response can shift into overdrive."

To halt this cycle, we have many, many options. First, we can try to change our habits.

Of course, changing a habit is hard. As Jerome Groopman notes in a New Yorker article about habits: "A large majority of us lack the self-control required to succeed in life."

However, we can "hack" our habits by "finding ways to take will-power out of the equation."

Groopman quotes a researcher who suggests creating friction--essentially making our bad habits more inconvenient. However, Groopman's article also describes another effective approach to changing habits: replace one habit with another and include rewards for the change.

Recently, instead of consuming media, for example, I try to read about wellness, denim, or JAWS. I try to talk to my children and my wife. Instead of listening or watching the news, I listen to music. I sing. I don't mean to sound trite, but I believe this is a good response to the current situation: Just sing.

Singing (or humming) stimulates the vagus nerve, which is one of the best ways to reduce stress--and to increase HRV.

Read: "Traumatic Experiences: Vagus Nerve, Microbiome, Heart Rate Variability (HRV) and Effects of Exercise"

Why not replace a stressful stimulus with an enjoyable, and altogether more human act?

Read: "This Might Be the Simplest Scientific Way to Get Rid of Stress You've Ever Heard Of"


New York Times article on pulse oximeters

"There is a way we could identify more patients who have Covid pneumonia sooner and treat them more effectively — and it would not require waiting for a coronavirus test at a hospital or doctor’s office. It requires detecting silent hypoxia early through a common medical device that can be purchased without a prescription at most pharmacies: a pulse oximeter.

Pulse oximetry is no more complicated than using a thermometer. These small devices turn on with one button and are placed on a fingertip. In a few seconds, two numbers are displayed: oxygen saturation and pulse rate. Pulse oximeters are extremely reliable in detecting oxygenation problems and elevated heart rates."

In-Stock Pulse Oximeter: Philips Pulse Oximeter

Bristol Stool Chart

Just Thrive Probiotic

Inexpensive Blue Light Blocking Glasses

Swannies Blue Light Blocking Glasses

Sunday, April 19, 2020

Quarantine Notes: To the Class of 2020

The photo below was taken twenty-five-years ago on the Ocean City boardwalk.

Karen was seventeen, young and carefree. She wanted to travel around the world. She wanted to go to college. She wanted to learn several languages, to work for the United Nations.

I was eighteen, extremely serious and painfully in love. I wanted to settle down, to be with her day and night, reading and writing in some seaside cottage, completely alone. I wanted children, even then, a brood of little ones with my dark skin tone and her light hair and eyes.

My intensity alarmed Karen, especially when I dared her to match my emotions. Of course, what I wanted defied the communion at the heart of any good relationship: the coming together of two people with two radically different points of view.

But what did I know of this--of anything?

I knew I had never felt anything with such force, and although everything felt painful, songs and poems, even trees and sand, I was often moved to tears of joy by the sheer beauty of the world.

Today, I feel compelled to dismiss this ridiculous person. I knew nothing—nothing of the pain to come, the failures and woes.

Lately, however, marooned at home with Karen and our children, I am feeling my eighteen-year-old self. I am reading for hours each day. I am writing, as I did then, without expectation. I am listening to Weezer. And sometimes, perhaps on a Saturday after my third glass of wine, my urges drive me outside, where I think about my life with tears in my eyes, all that I have and all that I want.

With all these tributes to the class of 2020, I am thinking about the boyfriends and girlfriends, all the young people missing each other so deeply right now. I’m sure they’re worried about the future. Will the relationship survive? I’m sure they’re feeling the pain of isolation. I’m sure each day feels like an eternity. I feel you, young people. Hang in there.

Quarantine Notes: Trying and Failing, and Trying Again

It is 10:10 on Sunday morning in Ambler. The sky framed in the window is white, the pallor of a startled face. Lately, the weather defines my mood. Sunshine feels like a gift from Apollo. On a day like today, though, I think of Camus' line from The Myth of Sisyphus: "There is but one truly serious philosophical problem and that is suicide."

It’s so easy to wallow. It’s so easy to find solace in trite memes. One meme says: “It's OK to not to be at your most productive during a fucking global pandemic."

But what if a “fucking global pandemic” is precisely the time to try to be productive, in any way you can?

Get dressed. Make soup. Sew a mask. Read a book. Take a walk. Take a class. Teach a class. Think. Feel. Cry. Laugh. Try and fail. Try again. Day after day.

Put another way, Camus is asking: Is life worth living? This is his answer, and the point of life right now: to try day after day, like Sisyphus, happy at the bottom of my mountain.

For me, this means waking up each day, drinking my morning tonic, getting dressed, and sitting down to write. Of course, so much happens in between, so many interactions and duties, small and large. And this is also the point and purpose of life right now: Karen, Owen, and Ella.

I've been teaching the kids Greek myths. Each day we watch a few videos, and then we take a walk and discuss what we've learned. Ella loves Athena, the goddess of wisdom. Owen loves Ares, the god of war, hated among men and gods. I love Dionysus, the god of wine and woundedness, who like the grapes from the vine, is torn apart and reborn.

We're limiting wine just now--to three or four nights a week. I sleep better. The mornings are easier. On days we do drink wine, like today, I feel the excitement of my teenage years, of which I remember so little, only the heights and depths, the laughter and tears, and the incredible momentum, which so often conveyed us to the end of a night, when the only reasonable choice was to go home. We hardly ever went home.

We miss our friends. We miss our family. We miss the easy commerce of the world: the people and things.

But we're trying not to wallow. We're trying not to scroll the news feeds, grasping for control.

It’s hard. No doubt. But we're trying not to see the fear and pain and anxiety as an excuse. What if it’s an invitation—to try harder? How else to show reverence for the lives lost? How else to honor the privilege of being alive in this moment of transition?

Each day I drink my tonic, get dressed, and sit down to write. I’m trying each day, day after day. Trying and failing, and trying again.

Monday, March 23, 2020

One Good Thing #7: I Am

As I sit here writing, I hear Ella, one floor below, sprinting from room to room, creating a "school," populated with LEGOs, L.O.L Surprise Dolls, and army men. I hear Owen's shouts as he guides the army men to "the library." I can hear music, the playlists Spotify somehow uncovers from the algorithmic chaos of Ella's musical tastes: Disney songs, Imagine Dragons, Machine Gun Kelly.

Right now, I hear Phillip Phillips' "Home," a song I played on repeat around this time eight years ago, when Ella was born. I can't listen to this song without feeling the intensity of emotion from that time, the soaring happiness and the inevitable reply: the bone-deep sadness.

In his poem, “Glory,” Uncle Dean writes, "some sadness has no origin."

I often repeat this line to myself, even as I try to discover the origin—some experience or image that might clarify why I feel sad. An upsetting conversation? A photo of my grandparents? Often, I have to admit: some sadness has no origin. More often, I discover an origin, of sorts: some irrational fear.

Obviously, in recent days, I've succumbed to fear more often than usual. I try not to dwell in this fear, though I've found it can grip me for minutes or hours.

Speaking of fear, Sharon Salzberg says in a recent podcast: I realized looking at my own fear that, unlike the pronouncement, I'm afraid of the unknown, I'm actually mostly afraid when I think I *do* know--and it's going to be really bad.  It's the stories I tell myself, that's gonna happen, that's gonna happen, that's gonna happen--that's when I *really* get going. And when I remind myself I *don't* know, this space opens up, and I think, 'Hey, I don't know.' Then I can relax.

As I sit here writing, Karen is drinking coffee two floors below. She is alone, browsing jewelry boxes online, enjoying a respite from the children's near-constant need for attention. We've seen the recent Jonathan Frakes Asks You Things meme, which equates Frakes' persistent odd questions to this new life at home with the kids. It's spot-on.

We're entering our seventh day of near-isolation. Throughout the past week, we've fielded an unrelenting stream of demands and proclamations from the children.

"I AM hungry!" "I want to watch something." "When is lunch?" "What can I do?" "I want a cupcake!" "I AM HUNGRY, Daddy. So MUCH." "Can I use your phone?" "If you feed me, I won't pull down my pants."

Karen is holding up admirably. Me? I give myself a solid C+.

So often, I feel my irritation cresting, and I see the children examining me, placing themselves in a holding pattern until they decipher my mood.

Is he angry? Is he sad? Is he happy?

I am all of these things, at once. Unfortunately, I often suppress my happiness, and instead, amplify my irritation, clouding the moment for the children, for Karen. Only later, often after dinner when I've had a glass or two of wine, do I see the harm of this way of being. George Saunders expresses this way succinctly in his essay, "Buddha Boy"

"You know the feeling at the end of the day, when the anxiety of that-which-I-must-do falls away and, for maybe the first time that day, you see, with some clarity, the people you love and the ways you have, during that day, slightly ignored them, turned away from them to get back to what you were doing, blurted out some mildly hurtful thing, projected, instead of the deep love you really feel, a surge of defensiveness or self-protection or suspicion? That moment when you think, Oh God, what have I done with this day? And what am I doing with my life? And how must I change to avoid catastrophic end-of-life regrets?"

Yesterday, I sat with my son on the couch, holding him tight while we watched the terrible movie, The Wrath of the Titans. He must've looked at me once or twice per minute, searching my eyes, trying to interpret my mood.

It is terrible, in a way, and almost too much to bear: this awesome responsibility I have assumed, and largely ignored, as a father, to allay my son's fears--and not to be his fear.

I think this way so often, bound as I am in what David Foster Wallace calls the "natural default setting, of being uniquely, completely, imperially alone day in and day out."

But the God-honest sparkle in Owen's eyes, the enthusiasm he seemed to hold for the moment,  suggested the opposite: I was not unique, or alone, at all. My son was here with me, and he was offering me what I have so often failed to give him, a refuge from my fears, a simple reminder: This is life, now, and I am here, with him.

Since that moment, I have felt a strong urge to sob outloud. But I have also felt a sense of resolve building within me. Salzberg's wisdom helps, too. I don't know what's going to happen. And that's fine. It's always been that way. For now, I am home with Owen and Ella, with Karen. I am angry. I am sad. I am happy. I am all of these things, and more. So I just keep telling myself: I am. I am. I am.

Thursday, March 19, 2020

One Good Thing #6: Sulforaphane: A Powerful Plant Compound

In recent years, I have experimented with a potent plant compound proven to be an effective therapeutic agent in a variety of health contexts: sulforaphane. Found in cruciferous vegetables--especially broccoli sprouts--sulforaphane is a potent activator of the NRF2 pathway, which "regulates the expression of cytoprotective proteins that protect against oxidative stress due to injury and inflammation" (source).

That last quote is from the world's foremost sulforaphane champion, Dr. Rhonda Patrick. Her podcast, Found My Fitness, is a favorite in the wellness community.

Of note for sulforaphane is her discussion with the world's foremost sulforaphane researcher, Dr. Jed Fahey, who has pioneered sulforaphane research at Johns Hopkins for several decades.

I'm not sure whether I'm proud or embarrassed to admit: I've listened to this podcast (below) too many times to count.

Sulforaphane for Coronavirus?
Sulforaphane may be a powerful part of a coronavirus prevention regime--or, potentially, a coronavirus treatment plan. Obviously, the compound has not been tested specifically for the virus, and I am not a doctor. However, I believe the evidence for taking sulforaphane as part of a healthy regime is compelling.

For prevention, sulforaphane may help boost an aging immune system, clear damaged lungs, and induce powerful detoxification pathways.

As a potential treatment, sulforaphane has shown promise in inhibiting interleukin 6, the pro-inflammatory cytokine responsible for the dreaded cytokine storm of coronavirus.
Photo Source: "How to Grow Broccoli Sprouts at Home"
Perhaps the best way to consume sulforaphane is by eating broccoli sprouts. A good alternative is a quality supplement with pure sulforaphane, like Prostaphane, which is only available in France.
Rhonda Patrick takes this supplement.

Another option is a supplement that supplies glucoraphanin, a precursor to sulforaphane. Glucoraphanin is converted into sulforaphane in the body in the presence of an enzyme, myrosinase (which can be found in mustard seeds). Fahey recommends Avmacol, which I've taken to great (anecdotal) success. I consider this supplement a core part of my family's health regime, and I encourage all my loved ones to take it--especially now.

The podcast linked below mentions the positive effects of supplementation lasting several days. I took one capsule every two or three days.

More on sulforaphane. And Rhonda Patrick's podcast with Jed Fahey...


Wednesday, March 18, 2020

One Good Thing #5: Moroccan Chermoula Tempeh

I've just spent the last thirty minutes reading a variety of coronavirus-related articles, including recent news from South Korea, where cases have "dropped sharply" without massive shutdowns.

One suggestion: Do not Google "coronavirus positive news."

I had presumed the search engine would understand the intent of my search. Not so. For all the amazing complexity of Google's algorithm, Google delivered the exact opposite of my intent: instead of positive news, result after result of people (and a dog) who had tested positive for the virus.

Google fail.

In any case, I had a relatively good day. I went for a run. I spoke to some of my favorite students. I also spoke to my father, my sister, and my friend Henry, a comedian, actor, and longtime restaurant worker in NYC, who had made tempeh for the first time in his life last night--tempeh taco.

I often eat tempeh for lunch, and I consider myself one of the world's top tempeh advocates. Tempeh is essentially a fermented soybean cake with a unique chewy texture that rivals certain meat products.

I'm not going to make any special claims about the health properties of tempeh (as opposed to other unfermented soy products), but I will say, anecdotally, that I've found it to be a delicious, sustaining,  and incredibly easy-to-digest source of plant protein. Also, tempeh has appreciably more protein and fiber than tofu.

Read: "Tempeh vs. Tofu"

Today, in the spirit of trying new ways of eating (and using resources), I want to share my all time favorite tempeh recipe: Moroccan Chermoula Tempeh.

This recipe is adapted from Peter Berley's magnificent book, The Modern Vegetarian Kitchen. I've made it for public events, for legions of friends and private cooking clients, and, of course, for my family and children, who often trade their precious nuggets for tempeh.

Try it. I think you might like it. And lord knows--the supermarkets aren't running out of tempeh any time soon. 

An All-Time Great Cookbook: Peter Berley's Vegetarian Kitchen (Photo Source)

Moroccan Chermoula Tempeh 
½ cup extra virgin olive oil 
½ cup water
6 tablespoons fresh-squeezed lemon juice
1 teaspoon sweet paprika
1 teaspoon ground cumin
½ teaspoon cayenne pepper
½ cup chopped cilantro
1 1/2 teaspoons Celtic sea salt
 4 garlic cloves, crushed
1 pound organic tempeh, sliced in one-inch cubes

Preheat oven to 300 degrees.

Combine olive oil, water, lemon juice, spices, cilantro, salt, and garlic in a medium bowl and whisk well. Place tempeh cubes in a 9-inch baking pan and pour marinade over tempeh. Cover with tin foil and bake for 60 minutes.

Uncover and bake for 10 minutes, until browned. Serve with white basmati rice.

Tuesday, March 17, 2020

One Good Thing #4: Gatsby's SCHEDULE

Yesterday, three days into my project, I failed to write "One Good Thing." I was feeling ill, a supremely eerie sensation at this time, and though I wasn't experiencing ominous symptoms, I felt incapable of even the smallest tasks, let alone writing.

Instead, I spent my time on the couch, trying to read The Great Gatsby, trying (and failing) to recover my lost sense of optimism.

I was sixteen, staying in Stone Harbor with my mother’s family, when one night after a pasta dinner, my Uncle Dean suggested I read Gatsby. At the time, he called it “the greatest novel ever.”

Dean had a copy of Gatsby on him, a paperback from my great Aunt Gloria. That night, I pulled my mattress onto the deck, flopped down, and under the yellow glow of an outdoor bulb, read Gatsby cover to cover,

When I rose with the sun the next morning, I was a different person, inspired as much by Gatsby’s “extraordinary gift for hope” as his “Platonic conception of self.”

Nurturing the delusion that I am of the Gatsby ilk, I’ve since read Gatsby every few summers, yet only in recent years, well into my forties, have I acknowledged: I’m more Nick Carraway.

That first summer, however, I fancied myself equal parts Carraway and Gatsby, half wry spectator, half extravagant striver, and since then I have tried to model my days on the optimism of young Jay Gatsby (née Gatz)--specifically, his SCHEDULE, the detailed account of his daily regime, printed at the back of a book called Hopalong Cassidy, and his GENERAL RESOLVES:

We had looked to yesterday to be the first day of our SCHEDULE. We had planned to outline our days by the hour, noting times for homeschooling, work, and play. But I was sick, and we failed.

Writhing in failure, I was comforted to see that many, many others online felt the same way. Day One: abject failure. A colleague from Villanova relayed a telling  anecdote from a student:

"A nursing student I'm working with has little ones popping in and out of the Zoom. She said she has no idea what time it is. Fed them lunch and her husband said: we're having lunch at 3???"

But today is a new day, and tomorrow. In this, I'm taking inspiration from another source, decidedly less optimistic but perhaps more appropriate for the moment: Samuel Beckett.

At the end of his novel, The Unnamable, Beckett offers the only advice I can take right now: "You must go on. I can't go on. I'll go on."

Sunday, March 15, 2020

One Good Thing #3: The Value of Boredom

My daughter Ella celebrated her eighth birthday yesterday.

When I was eight-years-old, I was a student at the Lancaster Waldorf school, the only school I'd known, and my day-to-day experience was not much different from my daughter's. I went to school, I came home. I lived for the weekends, for summer. Even then, I recall my middle childhood as a time of profound boredom punctuated by rare shots of excitement.

I cannot say whether all young children share this experience. My son Owen seems to live a life of near-constant excitement or agitation, of ceaseless energy.

But Ella is much like me as a young child: She dwells in boredom.

Ella's refuge, like everyone these days, is the screen: the games she plays on my iPhone, games like Minecraft and Roblox, which strike me, whenever I happen to look at the screen, as pointless and ugly.

Ella loves these games. Whenever she's played for some time, I can see in her eyes the serene, drugged look of an addict at the peak of her high, and whenever I attempt to take the phone away she lashes out in uncharacteristic ways, crying with outrage.

It's a terrible moment, when I force boredom upon her. Yet so often her boredom is generative, a space where imagination is made of necessity, where her own thoughts have the capacity to delight even in the midst of the most mundane of afternoons.
Very often, of course, Ella's boredom leads to an impulse to create.

In the coming weeks, we'll all have to lean into boredom, and I suspect, as usual, that despite my intentions, I will end up looking to my young daughter for inspiration and succor--instead of the other way around.

Below is a sampling of the fruits of Ella's boredom, beginning with her advice to herself for boredom...
You are bored so follow these rules: read, color, think, think about life,
if you have enough time, watch something
Screenplay: Written with Julia and Emma
Ella filled each page of this tiny notebook with a tiny drawing
Ella's first book: Sad (from the "Feeling Series")
The protagonist (?) of Sad
Five Bold Predictions for the Future: Balls will change, no more cars, new food, cool jobs, huge foods

Saturday, March 14, 2020

One Good Thing #2: Ella's Birthday

Based on the current numbers of cases and fatalities, the death rate of the virus is about 3.7%. I admit: Until today, I had found comfort in these seemingly low numbers--without thinking about the human consequence.

A single death is a tragedy--for a family, a community.

This fact is most apparent when celebrating a birthday. Today is Ella's 8th birthday. We celebrated at our house, with our family. Mom-Mom and Pop-Pop came from Brigantine. Aunt Chuck came from Lancaster. And, of course, the local family was here: Ella's grandparents and aunts and uncles and cousins.

It was lovely to commune with the family, young and old. At first, we tiptoed around each other.

"Are we hugging?" we asked.

Hours later, as the party ended, we embraced each other without hesitation.

As I write now, with little time and much later than expected, Ella and Owen sit on the couch with their cousin Olivia watching Boss Baby. Karen is on her way home with chocolate ice cream and way too much wine. Soldier on, I keep thinking. Stay positive.

Happy birthday, Ella. We love you.

Friday, March 13, 2020

One Good Thing #1: Just Sing

Yesterday Pennsylvania's governor, Tom Wolf, announced several "guidance" measures for Montogomery County, including the closures of all schools, child care centers, and all non-essential retail facilities for two weeks. When I heard the news, I envisioned a Rocky training montage.

In the next two weeks, I hope to stay positive--for myself, my family, and my community--by spending time with the people I love, exercising in new ways, reading new books, cooking new recipes, and writing.

Also, to combat the moral panic of the coronavirus (for myself and, perhaps, others) I plan to post "one good thing" each day.

Too Much Media?
Since the outbreak of the coronavirus, I have surprised myself with my resiliency to anxiety. Only a few years ago, starting after Trump's election, I lived in near-constant anger, fear, and anxiety. For the first time in my life, I experienced panic attacks.

I attributed my anxiety to the chaos of our life at home with two small children, which felt like an assault on my nervous system. I eventually realized something far more insidious at the core of my anxiety. I realized this during the Kavanaugh trial, in September 2018, on a Friday evening, on the day Jeff Flake made his momentous decision, delaying Kavanaugh's nomination--for a week or so.

I had been listening to the coverage for most of the morning, ignoring the habits that make my Fridays (my day off) feel so important: reading and writing. Instead of engaging the creative part of my brain, I had obsessively cleaned while watching/listening to the coverage on my CNN app.

That night at dinner, I compulsively checked my phone even as I spoke to Karen about the hearing.  The children, tired after a long day at school, vied for our attention.

At one point, I heard Ella speaking, as if from a distance. "Daddy?" she said. "Daddy?"

Looking at her, I realized I had completely ignored whatever she had said, and with the clarity of an insight I understood: I was wasting my life. Over the course of the following weeks, I decided to back away from the relentless Kavanaugh coverage. To do so, I limited my exposure to social media. I deleted all social media apps from my phone. I stopped turning on NPR first thing in the morning.

One Good Thing: Just Sing
Despite my recent resiliency, I still modulate my media consumption. This strategy may be the single most important part of my wellness regime: I never watch the news and I rarely listen to the news.

I only occasionally read the news, about one to two articles per day: enough to know what I need to know.

In recent days, I have comforted myself with the well-known statistics about the percentage of coronavirus cases that prove to be mild, as well as the seemingly low death rates for those below 80. Yes, I have been disturbed by the administration's slow response, as well as the consistent onslaught of negative news about mass contagion and economic ruin.

It wasn't until this morning, though, that I felt truly anxious. I made the dreadful decision to read an article in the Times about two young Chinese women, both infected with the virus. One survived. One died. After reading, it took several hours to regain my equilibrium.

I had to remind myself again: I must modulate my media exposure. Just turn it off.

Changing a habit is hard. As Jerome Groopman notes in a New Yorker article about habits: "A large majority of us lack the self-control required to succeed in life."

However, we can "hack" our habits by "finding ways to take will-power out of the equation."

Groopman quotes a researcher who suggests creating friction--essentially making our bad habits more inconvenient. This is presumably one reason why my media detox initially worked so well for me: I deleted the apps.

However, Groopman's article also describes another effective approach to changing habits: replace one habit with another and include rewards for the change.

Instead of consuming media, I try to read about wellness, denim, or JAWS. I try to talk to my children and my wife. Instead of listening or watching the news, I listen to music. I sing. I don't mean to sound trite, but I believe this is a good response to the current situation: Just sing.

Singing (or humming) stimulates the vagus nerve, which is one of the best ways to reduce stress.  Why not replace a stressful stimulus with an enjoyable, and altogether more human act?

Read: "This Might Be the Simplest Scientific Way to Get Rid of Stress You've Ever Heard Of"

Friday, February 14, 2020

A Perfect Recipe: Chocolate Truffles with Coconut Milk

Delicious recipes often sacrifice health for flavor. And "healthy" recipes often sacrifice flavor for perceived health benefits. Can you maximize flavor and health? I believe so. The "perfect" recipe series explores the recipes I've developed over twenty years as a passionate home cook, personal caterer, and recipe developer. 

Alchemy is remembered as a medieval chemical philosophy having as its asserted aims the transmutation of base metals into gold, the discovery of a panacea, and the preparation of an elixir of longevity.

Carl Jung, among others, saw alchemy as something more: a symbolic system for spiritual transformation. The great alchemists, he noted, were not really working to transforms metal, but to transform their own souls, from a lead-like state of ignorance to one of golden enlightenment.

The preparation of chocolate can be compared to alchemy: the astringent, bitter and otherwise bland seeds of a tropical tree are transformed into a dense, smooth, and somewhat sweet food, with an unrivaled, complex taste—a golden food.

Chocolate is a transformative food, capable of igniting passion and romance and fervor. When we work with chocolate, we embody Jung’s idea of the ancient alchemists. In this case, the asserted aim of our work is to transmute the raw ingredients into food, but the real aim of our work is to inspire romance and bravado.

I first encountered chocolate bravado in Barcelona; now that I am back in the states I find myself dreaming of a return to that city, to the famous pastry shop, Escriba, where, one morning I saw two gorgeous women sharing a chocolate cake with a beast of a man. The beast was clad in black leather from head to toe. The trio looked as if they were on the tail end of a long night, and they smoked while they ate, purposefully, as if they were battling for a last chance at recognition. It was my first day in Barcelona and it was my first sight of a Catalan. I couldn’t explain to myself why I felt so amazed. Nor could I tear my eyes away from the enormity of the piece of chocolate cake the beast was eating.

He stopped and returned my gaze. Then, with the odd braggadocio of someone who is still drunk, he pointed at my plate and laughed.

I was eating a granola bar.

I was not so interested in chocolate back then.

Still, even then, I had the impression, looking upon this monster in leather, that I was witnessing a stellar engagement—the same engagement that hits me now, every evening, after eating my final meal of the day, when I sit down to eat a truffle, lovingly made, and I sense the absurd affinity that humankind has developed for chocolate--a relationship initiated by an Aztec king and propagated ever since, by kings and lovers alike.

Montezuma reputedly had an absurd affinity for chocolate According to reports left by the Spanish conquistadors, he drank as many as 50 cups of chocolate a day. Apparently, he needed the chocolate. Montezuma had hundreds of lovers. Chocolate was his Viagra.

Chocolate is the food of the sensual monster.

Picasso, the monster, reputedly fed his children dinners made entirely of chocolate desserts.

Coconut Chocolate Truffles

Chocolate truffles are easy to make; they are also shockingly delicious. Here, I replace the traditional heavy cream with coconut cream, a healthy source of fat and another source of sensual allure. You can also roll the truffles in cocoa powder or chopped nuts, like pistachios.

½ c. coconut milk (coconut milk must be full-fat; try Thai Kitchen's)
8 oz. bittersweet chocolate, coarsely chopped (For truffles, I prefer Chocolove Chocolate; or Endangered Species' Supreme Dark Bar)
1/2 cup dried coconut

Place chopped chocolate in a medium-sized bowl. Create a double boiler by placing bowl over a simmering pot of water. Gently melt the chocolate.

Pour coconut milk into a medium saucepan and bring to a gentle simmer over medium-low heat. Remove from heat, let cool slightly, and pour over chocolate. Gently stir until smooth, chocolate is completely melted, and coconut milk is incorporated.

Rest until firm, 1-3 hours.

Place coconut into a bowl. Using a measuring spoon, scoop up 1 teaspoon of chocolate, and quickly roll into a ball about 3/4 inch across. Drop into coconut; roll each truffle to coat.

Let rest until firm, 30 minutes.

Store in an airtight container in the refrigerator for up to 2 weeks.

"Wanna get drunk and fool around?"

"Wanna get drunk and fool around."
- Ellen Brody  (Lorrain Grey), JAWS

Thursday, January 16, 2020

"There seems no reason except mere habit why...we should not go barefoot"

"As to the feet, which have been condemned to their leathern coffins so long that we are almost ashamed to look at them, there is still surely a resurrection possible for them. There seems to be no reason except mere habit why, for a large part of the year, at least, we should not go barefoot, as the Irish do, or at least with sandals. [Democracy, which redeems the lowest and most despised of the people, must redeem also the most menial and despised members and organs of the body.]"
~Edward Carpenter, 19th century English progressive writer (repost from the wonderful menswear blog, Die Workwear!)