Being a helpful and thoughtful type, I am willing to share my insights into diet and lifestyle with you here, my dear reader, since Sunday Life has not yet seen fit to feature me in ‘My Day on a Plate’. Perhaps they’ll feature my daily intake post-humously, when my innovative ‘forager’ diet has received popular recognition, all too late, and I’m lying comfortably in the ground with worms eating my eyes.
Anyway, you guys get to read it here first, and be early adopters. The ‘foraging diet’ is borne through necessity, but it’s surprisingly easy to follow. Here’s my day as a forager.
6:30am: Awake. Check twitter, facebook, email. Get mad that I’ve wasted time. Fall asleep.
7:15: Awake. Make tea. White, very strong Assam bold with 1 sugar. Whoever thinks sugar is the devil is the devil. Moderation, my pets. 3 sugars? Bad. 1 sugar? Well, it’s better than 1 cigarette.
Race kids to eat breakfast, pack bags, get dressed, do hair, re-do hair, walk out door, come back to yell at second child who is changing into a different outfit instead of putting on shoes, leave for double dropoff. Kid 1 shoves a toast crust at me and says she doesn’t want it. Eat it.
10am: Get home. Very, very, very hungry. Hang clothes on line. Find cherry tomatoes in veggie patch. Eat them.
10:15: Find a pantry! Find a hot cross bun. Is this breakfast? Morning tea? Not sure. Eat bun standing up in kitchen while unpacking dishwasher and tidying up crap everywhere.
10:30 −11: Hang out more washing. Answer emails. Running late!
11:00: Find a mint in bottom of handbag while driving in car. It is fluffy. Eat it. Get lost, yell at navigator who keeps telling me to do u-turns. (You can’t do them in NSW – STUPID woman), be late for meeting in city. Meeting person is lovely and doesn’t mind. Find a glass of water at meeting. Drink it.
12:30: Back at supermarket on north side. Shop. Eat a grape when nobody is looking. They might have been squishy. It’s yummy. Eat 3 more. Buy food. Eat apple on way to car crashing trolley into walls because should have waited until inside car to eat apple.
1:30: Gym: Pilates. Realise very hungry when think chi ball starts to resemble mango and need to stop self from eating it.
2:30: Find half a le snak biscuit in girl’s car seat. Eat it. Go home, unpack shopping. Find a stick of salami in shopping bag. Munch while unpacking. Find block of cheese. Munch a chunk in car while driving to school.
3:00: School pick up. Daughter starving. WTF!? She had a whole lunchbox! And recess!! Ahhh but we get home and she makes ME a coffee. I think this may be why I had children.
3:30: Find cruskits in pantry! JACKPOT! Slightly stale! Can’t tell with vegemite. Eat them in car while driving to preschool.
5:00 Children home. Won’t get in bath. Won’t get out of bath. Won’t wash selves. Won’t dress selves. Won’t stop whingeing. Cooking pasta. Find some wine in fridge. Check it’s ok for cooking with. Have a sip. (swig). Find some pickles. Eat the pickles with a fork from the jar and pretend am somewhere else. That’s better.
I think all the furore around those ‘activated almonds’ of Pete Evans’ came about because he wasn’t willing to actually share his insights into the origins of the almonds. Did he activate them by marinating them in eau de caffeine? Did he poach them in Red Bull? Did he plant them in the garden until they’d grown up through the heart of a lettuce? It was unfair not to share. I will do this for you now. You activate an almond by putting it in the couch. It’s part of my diet. After a week or two it’s absorbed nutrients from the surrounding environment, and you can forage for it while watching TV. You double the energy quotient by not expending yours walking to seek almonds, and by absorbing the added nutrients activated within the kernel itself. Win win.
So, guys, you see the basis of this diet is really to get back to simpler, caveman times, when we were out in the wilderness foraging for our survival. You find food, you eat it. If it looks ok, it probably is. I do sit down at dinner and eat proper food (and drink proper wine, from a proper glass). And sometimes, if I’m very lucky, I find some chocolate hiding in the recesses of the couch after dinner.
[Pic credit: Sunday life]