Category Archives: Food

This category comprises mostly recipes and food tips from the daily blog. The “food” page has some over-arching thoughts on what to feed a spectrum-kid.

ASD Recovery Recipe: Super-Strict Snack

Posted on by findingmykid
1

For eight weeks, Martin is on an extra-strict diet, as part of a final push against yeast overgrowth. You may ask, How could that possibly be, an extra-strict diet? After all, forget the extra strictness; Martin’s ASD recovery diet includes, well, almost nothing in the first instance.

But it’s true. For these eight weeks (as of today, we’re three weeks in) we’re shaving “almost nothing” down to “really pretty darned close to nothing.” No grains, no quinoa, no honey or raw agave nectar or coconut crystals, no winter squash or sweet potato, no sauerkraut or other fermented foods, no once-a-week pear. Martin is subsisting on dark green vegetables, cauliflower, summer squash, lemons, ginger, turmeric, nuts, seeds, eggs (not chicken eggs), and meat.

Martin’s school asks that I send cookies/treats with him each day, as the children often receive snacks for positive reinforcement. I tried a couple recipes for unsweetened hazelnut cookies, which flopped—returned home in Martin’s steel snack container, crumbled and sad, accompanied by a teacher’s note that Martin just didn’t like them.

The recipes thus proven fruitless, I was left to sally forth alone in pursuit of a snack he might enjoy. And soon I hit pay dirt, big time. Martin goes bonkers for these “nutty bars.” (Why must I conjure a cutesy diminutive name for everything from snacks to body parts? No idea.) I’ve tried the nutty bars myself, and they really aren’t bad, unless you consider incredibly fattening to be “bad.”

almond butter, lots
unsweetened cocoa powder
bee pollen
unsweetened coconut flakes
some combination of cacao nibs, sesame seeds, and/or hemp seeds

The almond butter is the base. (Hazelnut butter works well, too, but it tends to be much more expensive.) Mix in enough cocoa powder to give the almond butter a dry consistency, keeping in mind that too much cocoa powder can result in a bitter taste. Then add the combination ingredients and a generous helping of bee pollen and coconut flakes, both of which give the bars a sweet edge without adding sugar. You may find it easiest to use your hands to mix in these final ingredients, in a kneading motion.

Press the mixture into a small glass storage container, cover, and refrigerate. Cut into bars.

Note that these need to be kept cold, or else they can morph into something resembling pudding, which is still tasty but less convenient. I send Martin’s nutty bars to school with a cold brick in the container.

Spoiled Husband

Posted on by findingmykid
Reply

Last weekend we braved the Memorial Day congestion and traveled to my hometown, where we met my father for Sunday breakfast at an IHOP. (City dwellers, wandering in the wilderness, end up at IHOPs, apparently.) Adrian searched the menu for a healthy option, and settled on a spinach-and-mushroom omelet with Swiss cheese and hollandaise sauce—which he requested without the Swiss cheese or hollandaise sauce.

“I don’t know about these eggs,” Adrian said after a few bites. “They don’t taste like the ones you get.”

“You mean the IHOP didn’t go into Amish country to procure free-range green eggs with feathers still stuck to them?” I asked. “No, probably not.”

“And there’s something different about the oil. It’s heavy.”

“When I cook your omelets at home I spritz the pan with organic avocado oil, cold-pressed and unrefined. Most likely it’s not in use here.”

Adrian put down his fork. “Well, I don’t like it. The whole things tastes fried.”

My husband, food snob?

I admit that Adrian’s always been a wine snob; seven years ago he insisted that our wedding guests be served only bottles from two South American vineyards he selected. Nonetheless, I remember a time when he took a cheddar-tuna melt on white bread for culinary triumph. How did we move from there to a palate that distinguishes egg quality on first sample?

Martin, of course. Because of Martin’s needs our kitchen has been stripped of artificial ingredients and stocked with farm-fresh produce and other organics. It’s made us healthier as a family, and apparently Adrian’s got used to tasting quality.

If Adrian’s recent IHOP experience is indicative, a taste for quality might keep us all healthier even after Martin’s special diet ends.

Yellow Fingers

Posted on by findingmykid
2

As I see food, fresh is best for Martin. In most cases—cruciferous vegetables being perhaps the exception—raw foods beat cooked foods. I’ll take just-picked greens and just-killed meats, when available, over frozen. Fresh herbs are more beneficial than dried herbs.

So I was excited when my local natural foods store started carrying fresh organic turmeric root. It looks like ginger root, only more yellow-orange inside and less stringy. I bought a hunk yesterday and brought it home to use in Martin’s green pudding in place of turmeric powder.

The green pudding turned out better than ever, slightly sharper tasting, and I was proud of myself for incorporating a new ingredient.

A few hours later I discovered the downside of handling fresh turmeric. Friday night is date night. I was seated with Adrian in a wine bar, out of my mom clothes, feeling elegant in a smartly fitted dress.

Adrian watched me bring the long-stemmed glass to my lips.

“Yessss?” I drawled, seductively (I thought).

“Ummm—why are your fingers yellow?”

I checked. Despite several sound scrubbings, my fingertips and nails still bore the turmeric stain, a shade that is lovely in fresh root but rather jaundiced on flesh.

“Hey,” I said, “did I tell you how great Martin’s pudding turned out today?”

I’ll Have What He’s Having

Posted on by findingmykid
1

Well, this was bound to happen sooner or later.

Sunday afternoon Adrian and Martin sat at our kitchen counter, awaiting their respective lunches.

I served Martin’s plate first: cold chai rooibus tea, Raghoo Farms duck breast, and green beans sautéed in the duck fat. Martin picked up his fork to stab some duck.

Adrian’s plate arrived next: filtered water, one ounce of Hemlock Hill cheddar, “exotic rice toast” with Thai red rice and flaxseeds, pecan halves, and a peeled Satsuma orange divided by sections.

Martin took one look at Adrian’s more colorful meal, set down his fork, and said, “I want that.”

“That’s Daddy’s lunch, Sweetheart,” I said. “Your lunch is over here.”

“I want Daddy’s lunch.”

We’ve witnessed harbingers, over the past few weeks, of Martin’s nascent interest in food other than his own: longing stares at the fruit bowl, requests for “cookie crackers with crunchies” (a/k/a flour-free seed crackers, nut butter, and bee pollen) instead of parsley-tarragon-and-quail-egg frittata.  The signs, however, were few and easily covered by distraction, and Martin’s teacher tells us that he still never reaches for his classmate’s lunches.

Sunday was the first time Martin made a direct request for someone else’s food. I’m happy for the developmental milestone—the interest in what others are doing, and the desire to break routine. But the trend, if it continues, will pose new challenges for me. Up until now, Martin has been satisfied with what I put in front of him, and only that.

As for Sunday, it was mustard to the rescue. Martin is in a mustard phase; anything with mustard becomes instantly more appealing. (This includes delights like mustard on turkey bacon or mustard in buckwheat cereal.) After he requested Daddy’s lunch, I slapped my forehead, exclaimed, “Oh my gosh, I forgot the most important part!”, and made a big show of squirting stone-ground mustard onto the duck breast. This demonstration held Martin’s attention while Adrian quietly picked up his own plate and slipped away to his desk to eat, removing the temptation.

One incident managed.

Many more to come.

Darn You Double-Crossing Cruciferous Vegetables

Posted on by findingmykid
2

Arugula, broccoli, Brussels sprouts, bok choy, cabbage, cauliflower, chard, collard greens, daikon, kale, kohlrabi, mustard greens, radishes, rutabaga, turnips, and watercress.

Cruciferous vegetables are good for you, right? They’re high in fiber. They’re mineral- and vitamin-rich. They contain isothiocyanates, which help the body fight carcinogens. And for purposes of Martin’s specialized diet, they’re not too starchy or sugary.

Slam-dunk.

But nothing in the world of autism is a slam-dunk, really. I’ve been warned against feeding Martin any raw cruciferous vegetables. That may not seem like a big deal. On the other hand, I love dehydrated kale chips, and Martin used to love them, too—an easy, on-the-go snack available without moderation.

Now he doesn’t get them anymore, at least not often. With the familiar caveat that I am neither a scientist nor a doctor (and I give no medical advice), here’s my understanding of why raw cruciferous vegetables can affect ASD: Thyroid functioning is key to brain function and mental health. Many environmental chemicals, including BPA and flame retardants, are endochrine disruptors, which means that they can interfere with thyroid functioning and thereby hinder the developing brain. Cruciferous vegetables, while unquestionably not the same kind of thyroid criminals as those aforementioned synthetic chemicals, naturally contain chemicals known as goitrogenic isothiocyanates, or simply “goitrogens” (think “goiter”). The goitrogens inhibit the body’s metabolism of iodine, which is crucial to the production of thyroid hormone. Decreased hormone production means poor thyroid functioning. Poor thyroid function has been tied to autism.

This video from The Renegade Health Show explains (if you can tolerate big words, and lots of them) the effects of isothiocyanates on thyroid function. Kevin on the video concludes that only iodine-deficient persons, or those with pre-existing thyroid problems, need to worry about raw cruciferous vegetables. (And even those people may be able to counter the effects of the goitrogens by boosting their iodine intake.)

Most commentators seem to agree that cooking cruciferous vegetables, even lightly, inactivates the goitrogenic effects, which is why this concern applies primarily to raw cruciferous veggies.

So should Martin avoid them entirely?

I agree with Renegade Health’s Kevin that raw cruciferous vegetables pose no risks for the majority of the population. More specifically, I agree that they pose no risks for me; I eat buckets of arugula salad, I dip raw cauliflower in hummus, and I’m pretty sure that my life would be a lesser existence without the Dijon-marinated raw kale at Sacred Chow in the Village.

At the same time, whereas ASD and thyroid complications often travel together, allowing Martin to eat raw cruciferous veggies may well be a sort of danger.

I’ve decided to strike a balance. (I like saying that, because it must often seem like I’m willing to go any extremes, whatever the issue.) To ensure that Martin gets ample iodine, even without dietary supplementation per se, I sprinkle kelp flakes on his food in place of salt. Then I’m careful not to allow him unrestricted access to raw cruciferous veggies. Instead, he gets only the two foods he adores most: kale chips and green vegetable juice. I prepare kale chips no more than a couple times per month. As to the green vegetable juice—which in our case comprises organic green leafy vegetables (for goitrogen purposes, spinach is mildly better than kale or cabbage), cucumber, ginger, celery, lemon, and half an apple—it’s really a double no-no, because of the one-half apple. Nevertheless, I let Martin drink up to 12 ounces once per week.

As a side note, I consider dehydrated kale chips raw because they’ve not been heated to more than 115 degrees Fahrenheit, or 46 degrees Celsius. Definitions of “raw,” for purposes of the raw-food movement (which is not the topic of this post), vary. They include insisting that food be unheated and recommending that it not be heated above human body temperature. I’d love to wade into that debate, and more raw foods in general—but I keep returning to my mantra: There are only so many hours in the day.

And of those hours in this day, I’ve probably just given too many to the topic of goitrogens.

My New Relationship with Food, and the Kitchen-Jar Rule

Posted on by findingmykid
5

Martin’s dietary needs are leading me to a new relationship with food.

That’s a whopper (excuse the pun?) of a cliché, right?—a “new relationship with food.” Sorry. I’m not coming up with a better way to phrase this phenomenon.

I’m not an unhealthy eater. I wasn’t an unhealthy eater before this chapter, and I’m not now. I’m vegan. I watch my fats and proteins and vitamins. I love to cook and have always done plenty of it, whenever my schedule permits.

Yet until we undertook biomedical intervention and radicalized Martin’s diet, I put relatively little thought into additives, colors, and processed food versus natural. For example, I prefer to make hummus at home, because I can control the amount of tahini (just a dollop) that I add as opposed to lemon juice (plenty) and garlic (vampires refuse even to enter my neighborhood). But from a nutrition perspective, I gave little weight to the difference between (1) blender-whirring raw materials into hummus and (2) buying hummus preserved with potassium sorbate. (Wikipedia: “Potassium sorbate is the potassium salt of sorbic acid, chemical formula C6H7KO2. Its primary use is as a food preservative (E number 202).”) Nor did I consider the benefits of fresh-squeezed lemon juice over made-from-concentrate lemon juice purchased in a green-tinted plastic bottle that also contains sodium benzoate, sodium metabisulfite, and sodium sulfite.

Martin’s diet, along with its other restrictions, excludes additives and preservatives—or as I like to call them, non-food items in food. That means just about any processed food is off-limits. Even when it comes to meat: The meat we purchase must come from animals who ate unprocessed (minimally processed, at most) grains grown without pesticides.

The fact that Martin, who is so sensitive, has responded so well to the removal of non-food items from his diet got me questioning whether fresher and more natural foods would not benefit the whole family. Neither Adrian nor I suffer neurological impairment or, to my knowledge, complications with digestion or nutrient absorption. Therefore, we probably would not experience dramatic changes like Martin’s. On the other hand, what if reducing our intake of non-food items makes us sleep (a little) better, and feel (a little) more energetic, and concentrate (a little) steadier, and possess (a little) sunnier outlook? Might we not end up (a lot) healthier?

Now that I’m no longer employed, I’ve been implementing this like crazy. No more casual eating on the run. On weekday mornings, Adrian and Martin get up at 7:00 a.m. and leave home together at 8:05 a.m. to meet the school bus, after which Adrian heads to work. I, on the other hand, rise at 5:45 a.m. I cook the boys’ breakfasts; organize Martin’s supplements; prepare Martin’s lunch, beverage, and school bag; and also assemble lunch, one protein snack, and two fiber snacks for Adrian to carry to the office. (If the 5:45 a.m. thing is killing me, then at 8:06 a.m. I hop back into bed for an hour.) During the week, no food enters my guys that I have not made myself, except for Martin’s snacks and crackers baked by my mother.

My new standard for the grocery store is the “jar in my kitchen” rule. Mostly I buy fresh vegetables and bulk dried beans, i.e., unpackaged raw ingredients. (No meat or eggs at the grocery store; those I find at the farms or farmers’ markets.) As to anything I want that comes in a package, I search the label for ingredients I could not imagine keeping in a jar in my kitchen. The more ingredients I would not keep in a jar in my kitchen, the less willing I am to purchase. For example, this week I picked up the following packaged items:

•            Shim’on Ariche harissa. Ingredients: hot red peppers, garlic, water, salt. Unfortunately not organic. Still, all kitchen-jar approved.

•            Imagine creamy tomato soup. Ingredients: filtered water, organic tomatoes, organic onions, organic rice syrup, organic celery, sea salt, organic expeller pressed canola oil and/or safflower oil and/or sunflower oil, organic spices, organic garlic powder. The reference to unspecified spices gives me some pause. Homemade tomato soup would be preferable, but alas, a day has only so many hours for the kitchen. Overall, the Imagine soup is kitchen-jar approved

•            Orgran toasted buckwheat crispibread. Ingredients: buckwheat, rice, salt. Easy call.

•            NaSoya Nayonaise (vegan mayonnaise). Ingredients: soymilk, soybean and/or sunflour oil, cane syrup, vinegar, salt, mustard, apple cider vinegar, lemon juice, guar gum, xanthan gum, and sodium alginate. Caution! I was okay with everything until guar gum, xanthan gum, and sodium alginate. Not kitchen-jar approved. But in the end, I did buy the Nayonaise. I wanted it for a creamy salad, i.e., as a minor ingredient in a dish headlined by red bell pepper, pear, apple, daikon, onion, carrot, celery, and turnip. Not perfect, but some allowances must be made for tastiness.

My kitchen-jar rule is made easier by some unusual ingredients in my kitchen. Rice syrup, for instance. Though it’s not approved for Martin, it makes a gentle sweetener for my grown-up baked goods. Or lecithin. Lecithin pops up in many packaged food, and as it so happens, I do keep a jar of lecithin in my kitchen. It’s Love Raw Foods sunflower lecithin, a supplement we use for Martin, from Blue Mountain Organics.

In summary, I have Martin eating 98% fresh, 100% natural, and 99% organic. For me and Adrian, probably 80% fresh, 99% natural, and 80% organic (taking into account our weekend tendency to eat at restaurants).

There’s still the issue of our four cats. Currently, they eat Nature’s Variety canned food and dry food. I wish I could do better for them. When I was in graduate school, and had grad-student amounts of time on my hands, I made cat food at home. William the cat, who has long since died, was particularly fond of a garbanzo-based concoction I used to make with Harbingers of a New Age supplements.

Maybe someday I’ll manage a triumphant return to homemade cat food. Maybe when Martin is recovered.

Until then, alas, I repeat: A day has only so many hours for the kitchen.

George the cat, Martin’s best friend. Actually, the only of our four cats who tolerates Martin.

ASD Recovery Cooking: Butternut Squash

Posted on by findingmykid
Reply

I bought this organic butternut squash of, almost, embarrassing size. It’s a two-weeker.

Winter squash is hardly a nutritional powerhouse, but it is non-starchy, and Martin can eat as much of it as he wants. Thus, when dealing with standard, non-gargantuan vegetables, I process about one butternut squash per week. My gourd friends meet their fate like this:

First, I peel the entire squash and discard the rind. For three or four seconds I gaze upon the rind strips lying atop my garbage, sigh, and long for a compost bin.

Second, I cut the neck from the bulbous seeded section, which I set aside. I slice the solid flesh of the neck lengthwise into French-fry shape, about 1/8″ • 1/8″ • 4″. I store the sliced French fries, raw, in a lead-free glass container in the refrigerator. (No need to cover them with water; they keep well.) Martin frequently enjoys these French fries with breakfast. Those mornings, I spray a stainless-steel cookie sheet lightly with olive oil; spread the fries in a single layer; mist them with more olive oil; sprinkle with kelp or dulse granules, or salt; and bake at 450º for about 10 minutes, or until browned and slightly crunchy. (Uniformly sized fries are key. Otherwise, some will remain soggy whilst others start to burn.)

Third, I halve the bulbous section previously set aside and scoop the seeds and their fibrous coating—which I usually call by its technical name, “stringy stuff”—from each part. I separate the seeds from the stringy stuff; discard the stringy stuff, with another corresponding longing for a compost bin; rinse the seeds, as best is possible; and spread them on a sheet in my dehydrator. (I don’t start the dehydrator yet.) Once the seeds are dehydrated, they make crunchy little toppers for veggie dishes, or mix-ins for the occasions when Martin eats quinoa or rice.

Fourth, I cube the flesh that surrounds the seed pocket. This part of the squash does not make very good French fries, because it is rounded and hard to cut into the right shape. Instead, I juice the cubes with my high-powered juicer. What, you might ask, does one do with squash juice? One uses it in recipes, as a replacement for tomato juice, and to moisten vegetable dishes flavorfully.

Fifth, the juicing process leaves behind pulp in the juicer, which I remove and spread on another sheet in the dehydrator. Then I start the dehydrator, with seeds and pulp inside. Because juicing the flesh has removed most of the moisture (and nutrition, and taste) already, this pulp comprises almost only fiber, and desiccates rapidly. Once it is completely dry, I use a coffee/spice grinder to break it down to a fine powder. I use the powder in place of arrowroot or tapioca (which are starchier) as a thickener in stews and sauces.

The end. From my butternut squash I extract French fries, seeds, juice, and thickening powder.

From the squash pictured above I extracted three containers full of French fries, ¼ cup of seeds (post-drying), about 10 ounces of juice, and a spice bottle full of thickener.

So we’re good for a while.

ASD Recovery Recipe: The Promised Sauce

Posted on by findingmykid
Reply

Two days ago I promised that I would post a recipe for sauce that compliments the cabbage beef rolls. I promised that I would post it yesterday! But yesterday turned a little crazy, as days with a child on the spectrum sometimes do. This is a very simple cilantro-coconut sauce that sits well atop almost any savory dish. As a bonus, it is packed full of cilantro, a powerhouse for mitochrondial functioning.

1 bunch fresh organic cilantro, cleaned and minced
1/4 cup Let’s Do … Organic creamed coconut
1/4 cup water
1/4 tsp salt
arrowroot powder as necessary

Bring the water, salt, and creamed coconut to a boil. Lower heat, add the cilantro, and use an immersion blender to mix. (In the alternative, throw everything into the blender.) If necessary, add a little arrowroot powder to thicken (or, if you want to avoid the starch in arrowroot powder, add more creamed coconut instead).

Compliments of Martin’s “Aunt Coleen”!

ASD Recovery Recipe: Cabbage Beef Rolls

Posted on by findingmykid
Reply

Here’s another recipe modification from our visiting super-chef, “Aunt” Coleen. For my skill level, this counts as “fancy cooking” and might be nice to prepare when you’d like both your recovering child and your dinner guests to enjoy the same meal. Martin devoured two of these rolls the evening that Coleen made them; two mornings later I chopped up a third roll and added quail eggs to create a breakfast treat.

1/4 lb. ground beef
2 tsp fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1 cup cubed butternut squash
1/2 cup broccoli sprouts
6 leaves Napa cabbage
3 tbsps Coconut Secret raw coconut aminos
1 tbsp arrowroot powder
3 tbsps filtered water
1 tsp sesame oil
1 tbsp oil of your choice

Brown the ground beef and ginger in 1 tbsp oil with 1 tsp sesame oil. Add butternut squash and coconut aminos. Cook 7-10 minutes, until squash is tender. Add the arrowroot powder and water to thicken. Throw in the broccoli sprouts just before removing from heat.

Steam the cabbage leaves 7-10 minutes, until tender and pliable.

Spoon a portion of beef mixture into each leaf, roll tightly, and secure with a toothpick.

(Teaser: Tomorrow I’ll post the recipe for a nice, easy sauce to complement these rolls.)

ASD Recovery Recipe: Sauerbraten

Posted on by findingmykid
Reply

Maybe we’ve gone too far? Over the last two days, Martin has eaten one pound of beef, in the form of sauerbraten made by “Aunt Coleen,” his visiting chef. Coleen modified her sauerbraten recipe (removing juniper berries and ginger snaps, for example) to fit Martin’s dietary requirements, as follows:

1 lb. beef (stew chunks or top round)
2 cups apple cider vinegar
2 cups water
3 bay leaves
1 tbsp mustard seeds
1 tbsp cloves
2 tbsps fresh ginger, peeled and minced
1/4 cup coconut crystals
arrowroot powder as needed

Whisk together vinegar, water, spices, and ginger to create marinade. Cut beef into bite-size chunks, combine with marinade in an airtight glass container and marinate for one-to-three days in the refrigerator.

Pre-heat the oven to 325°. Add the coconut crystals to the marinated meat and mix well.

Brown the meat in the marinade in a cast-iron or stainless-steel pan. Transfer to a glass casserole, cover, and cook two hours in pre-heated oven. Remove bay leaves, cloves, and seeds from juices, then stir arrowroot into the sauce until you reach the desired thickness.

Coleen observes that, to feed vegetarian me and Adrian along with Martin, I can make this recipe with double the marinade and use the extra marinade with tempeh or, especially, seitan: two separate batches of food for my mixed vegetarian-and-non-vegetarian family.

This sauerbraten is reasonably sugar-intense, given the coconut crystals, and the arrowroot adds starch. Try to minimize those ingredients as possible—and perhaps keep your child from eating the entire recipe in two sittings?