Lauren

Despite the suggestions of the title, this is really a post about peristalsis; or the series of muscle contractions that helps food move from our mouths deep to the depths of our digestive tract, essentially providing the motion to our digestive ocean and without which proper absorption and assimilation of nutrients would be impossible.

Peristalsis is controlled by our autonomic nervous system — the same system that pumps blood to our heart, brings oxygen to our lungs, sweat to our armpits, tears to our eyes: all of the hidden processes that constitute the majority of our physical experience.

These processes are directly influenced by stress via a protective evolutionary mechanism for giving our bodies full physical prowess in the event of coming across, say, a saber-tooth tiger. Our sight sharpens, our breath quickens, and all of our blood moves away from our digestive system and into our muscles and limbs enabling us to either take on that tiger or to run like hell.

Fight or flight, or the sympathetic mode, is very democratic. It is so democratic that it makes no discernment between authentic stress–coming across two grizzly cubs while mama bear’s back is turned–and, let’s just say, lessor stresses–like the price of organic strawberries, or driving in L.A. (though the latter is pretty close to the bear cubs, if you ask me). As you can imagine, we are constantly subjected to the sympathetic mode.

This is problematic for a number of reasons, namely in regards to digestion. In order to ready our bodies for digestion, we must be in the parasympathetic mode, or rest & digest. When truly relaxed, our heart rate slows, our energy is conserved, and our blood moves back to our digestive system, relaxing our digestive sphincters (yes, there are others besides that one) and enabling our dear friend peristalsis to get its groove back, which in turn, sets our system up for maximum absorption and assimilation of our food.

Enter the dinner time prayer. A concept so foreign in my family–where any gathering at a table during mealtimes was purely accidental or otherwise involving a great, big stuffed bird or a great, big birthday cake–as to be transoceanic.

Oddly enough, my first introduction to this concept was when I myself was transoceanic–in, of all places, Sweden, a markedly nonsecular country. I spent a spring month volunteering, or WWOOFing, on a 16-cow dairy farm in northern Sweden with a Swedish-American Mormon family and, as you can imagine, my education in the family dinner was accelerated. For those of you unfamiliar with the traditions of our Beehive State friends a Mormon dinner includes, not only prayer, but also scripture readings and songs. Yes, songs. And I’m not even talking about the bacchanalia that is home-family-evening! (Mormon inside joke). Each night, no matter how much work we had done earlier or how much work had to be done still, we gathered around the kitchen’s broad table and were together, and were, more importantly, grateful.

Needless to say, I was converted.

No, not that kind of conversion (am still of the goddess-worshiping ilk, thank you very much). I was converted to the family dinner, the dinner time prayer, the cleared space from a day filled with stresses for a meal centered on gratitude. A family dinner is not subject to any particular set of standards; it can consist of twenty strangers or just you. Its value is in its moments. A few moments to consider the soil, the sun, the plant, the animal, the farmer, and in some cases, the truck driver, the pilot, the oil that each contributed to the contents of your plate. A few moments to consider the expanses which your community contributes to your everyday. A few moments to consider the breadth of love you are capable of contributing both outward and inward. A few breaths in these moments, deep, parasympathetic-mode-inducing breaths, peristalsis-encouraging breaths that bring with them a willingness & a readiness to be nourished; Praise be.

. It conserves energy as it slows the heart rate, increases intestinal and glandular activity, and relaxes sphincter muscles in the gastrointestinal tract. When our bodies are in this state, blood flow can return to our digestive system, reproductive system, and healing and regeneration can only occur. – See more at: http://www.upstreamfitness.com/2012/01/09/rest-and-digest/#sthash.xgFX9wyn.dpuf

Fat.

In decades past, it’s become a four-lettered-word. A shame considering fats are crucial to a number of our body’s processes, not least the absorption and assimilation of the fat-soluble vitamins, A, D, E and K, the absorption of minerals, and the signaling of the brain’s “satiety” response, or, in other words, the feeling of being full when we actually are full.

So, if fat’s actually good for us, how is it that it’s gotten such a bad name?

Alas, not all fats are created equal.

In fact, certain fats have strayed so far from their inherent “goodness” that they have, indeed, gone “bad”, becoming host to single atoms/clusters with unpaired electrons or free radicals. Free radicals are extremely chemically reactive and cause damage in our DNA/RNA strands that triggers mutations in our tissues, blood vessels and skin. These mutations pave the way for tumor-growth in our tissues and organs, plaque build-up in our blood vessels, and wrinkles and premature aging in our skin. (Fallon 10).

Free radicals are the product of oxidation which occurs when a fat, particularly an “unstable” one, is subject to oxygen, moisture, and/or heat during cooking or processing. (Fallon 10). The three types of fat–saturated, monounsaturated, and polyunsaturated–range in their stability; polyunsaturated fats are the least stable and thus the most susceptible to oxidation, saturated fats are the most stable and monounsaturated fats fall somewhere in between.

Oxidation is the reason why you’ve heard that cooking with olive oil–a monounsaturated fat–is bad news and why everyone’s been whipping out the coconut oil. However, for many of us in the Northern Hemisphere, coconut oil’s traveled quite a distance to reach our kitchens and our most sustainable option is butter, or as one Irish poet terms it “coagulated sunshine.”

Indeed, much like in the case of the egg yolk, milk fat is comprised of sun energy, grass transformed by grazing cow, scattered as microscopic fat globules in cream. These globules are damaged by churning which causes them to coagulate and form that slightly tangy, slightly sweet, greatly comforting mound we call beurre. (McGee 33).

Of course, butter is not solely milk fat and is, in fact, only 40-60% saturated. It also consists of water and easily singed milk solids, making it a lesser option for cooking on high heat. So then, what to use when frying an egg or carmelizing an onion? Simple: butter in its brighter form, or ghee.

A derivative from Sanskrit for “bright”, ghee is butter without its water and milk solids, butter that’s been clarified, or rather, 100% pure, saturated milk fat. This fat is so stable, so resistant to oxidation that it can keep, without refrigeration, for up to eight months. A symbol of purity revered in India by cooks and brahmans and brah-womans alike, this bright butter is a loving addition to any cast-iron pan.

Note: The quality of butter is highly dependent on the quality of life of the cow. A high quality of life–access to young grasses in the summer and properly stored grasses in the winter, clean water and fresh air, space to roam and to sunbathe–begets a high-vitamin milk. Cows raised on inappropriate feed–rancid grains, proteins they are not able to digest such as soy and corn–, with limited if any access to pasture, to sunlight, to cow-life as nature intended produce milk that is, virtually, nutrient-dead. This is why processed milk, much like processed bread, must be fortified with vitamins.

Ghee

Ingredients

1lb unsalted, cultured butter

Directions

Place butter in heavy-bottomed saucepan. Melt on medium-low heat. Let simmer until butter has melted and a creamy, yellow foam begins to rise to the top: this foam is the water content of your butter.
Raise the temperature to medium-high to brown the milk solids. This adds flavor as well as creates antioxidant compounds that delay the onset of rancidity. You’ll hear a sputtering sound as the solids brown.
Watch your ghee closely, now. Three distinctive layers should form: the golden-brown milk solids, the clear, golden fat, and the creamy, golden foam. Remove from heat as soon as the sputtering completely stops and when a smell–I can only describe as, well, golden–fills your kitchen.
Strain through cheesecloth to separate the fat from the milk solids & water & store in glass jar for six-eight months in the fridge or on your shelf.

The timing depends on the water content of your butter. Ghee can take anywhere from 10 minutes to 30 minutes to make. Just don’t wander too far from your stove!

References:
Fallon, Sally, 1999, 2001. Nourishing Traditions. Washington, DC. Newstrends Publishing Inc.
McGee, Harold, 1984, 2004. On Food and Cooking. New York, Scribner.

The Soaked Bean

Seeking Nourishment, Finding Traditions

Praise Be

Ghee; Or Bright Butter