******* A day and a half left till New Years! I’ve got a bottle of wine ready to pop the moment the clock clicks midnight here in Los Angeles. Not as eventful, considering that the ball in New York City would already have dropped three hours beforehand. I hope everyone is done nursing their Christmas food babies and bracing for a superfreaktabulous 2012! ******
As strange as it sounds, most eating disordered individuals love cooking. They love poring through cookbooks and baking blogs, staring with pearly eyes at the food porn pictures, soaking in the tantalizing drip of dark chocolate glaze down a boston cream pie, virtually licking up the buttery wine sauce ladled over a roast.
In the meantime, they’ll probably be nibbling fat-free oatmeal with a teensy weensy porcelain spoon to make the 1/3 cup dry oats last longer. They’ll be chewing on steamed cut broccoli with no sauce. They’ll be guzzling lots of diet soda or water in place of wine to fill up their growling stomachs. They might allow themselves a tiny organic dark chocolate-covered goji berry for dessert, or some voluminous baked oatmeal crap sweetened with mashed banana.
After their meager fat-free, low-carb, high-fiber meal, they might plan a cooking adventure. They’ll draw up elaborate menus, create whimsical, stunning desserts. They’ll spend hours and hours fiddling about in the kitchen preparing this meal. There’s a violent thrill as they slather up the butter, sniff up the steam from hot (white and refined) pasta and dust powdered sugar over a three-tier cake–all items that they never, ever allow themselves unless a private toilet is nearby.
That meal is for someone else. Always somebody else, usually someone they love. They make it out of guilt for causing their loved ones heartache. They make it hoping to make their friends and family happy. They make it so that they can bask in that rare praise and admiration for their culinary skills. But mostly, primarily, they make it because they can get the closest they can ever get with food without having to actually ingest (and digest) it.
That person, of course, was me. I spent all the money on my Borders and Barnes & Nobles gift cards on cookbooks. I would loiter for hours in the public library, 90% of the time at the cooking section. I watched Food Network voraciously, and learned all the culinary tips and tricks from celebrity chefs. Never trust a skinny cook, unless that person is anorexic. I could make a mean banana or kabocha cake, a spectacular fruit tart and improvise a delicious stir-fry from whatever contents were in the fridge.
I just could’t eat them. I just…couldn’t. Wouldn’t. Both.
Obviously I would have to taste the product in order to determine the tasting, but I usually tasted and then spat it out. Yeah, I was deathly afraid of even a droplet of butter-infested sauce entering my system. That is why I usually baked more than cooked. Because baking is a precise science. I just had to follow the rules and the product would turn out good. Cooking was more spontaneous and erratic; thus I tended to avoid it unless it was steaming vegetables or boiling oatmeal for myself.
So when it came to my own meals, it would mostly be pre-packaged stuff. Like Greek yogurt. Low-fat cottage cheese. Maybe a frozen Kashi entree. Very carefully measured amounts of dry oats. All of the things I ate, I knew the exact calorie count. The only thing that I didn’t care about calories was the vegetables– only because I knew they hardly had any calories anyway. I didn’t even really eat potatoes or sweet potatoes because I couldn’t really determine the exact amount of calories creeping in them, since they all came in different sizes.
That was the biggest fear I had towards cooked foods. The calories were hidden. My meals all had to be meticulously separated, so that I knew exactly what I was eating. I would eat an apple by itself: 80 calories. A small cup of Greek yogurt with a dash of cinnamon and Splenda: 90 calories. Then a Kashi entree: 240 calories. And a shitload of boiled vegetables with no sauce: calories forgiven.
When I was in Singapore, there were times when I was bored out of my mind. My week was much more eventful than my weeks in America, but there were still lapses during weekdays when both Wengang and Liwen were out working, my friends were busy, and it wasn’t time for a church meeting. So during those days I was home alone and couldn’t watch another episode of bootleg Gossip Girl without crying in longing for college life.
Since food already preoccupied my mind, it seemed natural that I should decide to start cooking. After all, the supermarket in Singapore was merely five minutes walk away– unlike in America, where I would have to rely on my mother to buy groceries since I weren’t allowed to drive. But this time, I promised myself, it wouldn’t be for others. It would be for myself. I would cook real food, then eat–and digest– every bite of it.
This new mission to cook for myself could have gone awry. It could easily have become another eating disorder tool. I could have somehow deluded myself into thinking I was making ED progress while eating scrambled egg whites with fat-free cheese and sugar-free ketchup.
But that, thankfully, didn’t happen. There were many reasons why.
The first reason was that my mental state was in a better place. I honestly wanted to challenge myself, and I was feeling more and more hopeful and motivated to recover.
The second reason was because the supermarkets in Singapore wasn’t like America’s at all. While in America you would see rows and rows of diet products–skim milk, skim cheese, 0% Greek yogurt, sugar-free this and that, carb-free this and that, gluten-free this and that– in Singapore, it wasn’t as easy.
You went to the dairy section, and you might spot skim milk, but that would be the extent to fat-free, low-calorie options. All the cheese were respectable, full-fat cheeses from New Zealand and Australia. There were no fat-free cottage cheese (my ED fallback) either. You could technically find low-fat and fat-free products in health food supermarkets…but they cost about four times more than the regular product. When it came to ED and my cheap Asian genes, my DNA won. I guess you could ask why I didn’t just skip the dairy, but then you don’t understand how much I freaking love dairy.
Neither were there lots of sugar-free options. Search as I might, I could not find my then favorite Heinz low-carb ketchup. Sugar-free candies were rare, and they were usually just sold (expensively) in pharmacies. There were no low-carb skinny bread either.
And the biggest obstruction: Singapore’s nutrition facts weren’t as easy to read as America’s. They calculated the nutrition content in kilojoules, not calories. They measured in per 100 grams instead of cups and tablespoons. It was all very confusing and annoying, and I didn’t have the patience to calculate them out in American measuring standards.
I had no choice, really. I had to cook with real products that have not been de-calorie-fied, and give up trying to determine the exact calorie content.
Anyway. I started to think of my cooking challenge as more of an adventure then a challenge. It really wasn’t as grueling as I thought it would be. It was actually…a great deal of fun. I loved the melodious tok-tok-tok sound that my knife blade made against the chopping board as I minced up onions. I loved the peaceful blubbering burps made as barley and beans boiled in water. I liked mashing up roasted potatoes with different ingredients and pairing them up with other cooked foods.
Cooking helped eased my tension up with food. I started to think of different ingredients organically. I thought of them in terms of flavor profiles and textures. I anticipated the finished product, my hunger rising as I breathed in the dish baking in the oven or frying in a skillet. That was a very different and curious way of thinking food to me. Food was slowly fading from that strict number category of xx calories. The restriction of “no” and “yes” foods was breaking down bit by bit.
When I looked at recipes, I used to judge them by nutrition and calories. But I began to look at them with my stomach instead of my head. I craved recipes that made me hungry, not make my ED satisfied and excited for another low-calorie, high-volume meal. I wanted to cook things that were truly going to taste good– and not just acceptable in ED standards.
I used full-fat cheese, real ground meat, even processed hotdogs. I didn’t calculate. I didn’t weigh potatoes. I didn’t measure condiments by the tablespoons. And I fully tasted the process of my cooking without spitting out the ingredients. I was experiencing real cooking– and it somehow chipped away at the inflexible, confined definition of food ED wanted me to have.
Not to say that I was suddenly gleefully throwing butter everywhere and slurping up MSG-laden white noodles. I was still careful in selecting whole-wheat bread and whole grains and I mostly cooked ridiculously healthy. But I made the biggest breakthrough of enjoying food– the whole process of it– in a holistic way.
I used to have a calorie log, where I would write down how many calories I had for each meal and snack. It remained buried somewhere for days and days. I just didn’t have the patience for such details anymore, and neither did I know exactly how many calories was in my lunch. That was a huge deal for my recovery, except it happened in such a casual and natural way that I didn’t realize how big a deal it was to me until much later on.
It’s kind of mind-boggling, really, how I changed from a neurotic, meticulous planner who ate the same goddamn thing every day to a person who daily cooked up a different meal using strange combinations and new ingredients. It’s entirely God’s grace and wisdom to allow the right thing to happen to me at the most appropriate state of mind I was in at the time.
The only thing was that this was not enough. Just because I could cook different foods and eat it didn’t mean I was recovered. I still had ways to go. And that meant God prepared a few more hoops for me to jump through. More on that on the next post.
Questions to Ponder:
1) What is/was food to you?
2) Do you cook? How do you cook? Do you eat what you cook?
3) What is/was your biggest hindrance when it comes to cooking? Is it the calories? The fat? The carbs? What are/were your fears?
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{ 27 comments… read them below or add one }
I admire you for putting yourself out there and giving a voice to eating disorders… especially for those who might not be as brave. I have seen how ED has affected those closest to me and because of this, I go out of my way not to over think food. Period. I love a good meal, but I try to eat everything in moderation. Except cheese. Cheese is my weakness! For me, food is not control, or fuel or feelings. It’s simply food, and on its best day, it’s delicious and a great way to bring friends and family together.
Thank you for the update Sophia. Recent struggles in this holiday season have left me feeling somewhat vulnerable, but you always seem to come to the rescue with a thought-provoking and inspiring response when I need it. I like to think of it a Go providing me the hints to do what I know is necessary.
1) What is/was food to you?
It’s been so many things at so many times. From Fiber One cereal to glazed donuts, it’s as if, once I was able to get out of the “none of this” way of thinking about macronurtients, I’m living in a world of extremes. Now I find myself struggling against eating for the sake of just wanting everything. The healthy stuff and the “unhealthy” stuff. Food, whether “healthy” or “nonhealthy” is too much of an obsession. I am trying to break the habit though by taking away some of those habits that reinforce the addiction, which in turn has always fueled my anxiety and abuse of exercise. It’s little things. Like NOT trying to go into the grocery store when I’m bored, or checking out star wars novels or military history books at the library instead of cook books. But part of it is, like you said, cooking. Being creative and allowing your curiosity and want to provide make others happy. It’s allowing food to become a story, and taking a moment to step outside yourself to become a part of that story.
2) Do you cook? How do you cook? Do you eat what you cook?
I love making pizzas. Right now I am proofing a Neapolitan style pizza crust from the SE cook book, and I’m going to saute some kale for a topping on Sunday and add smoked mozzarella cheese. I also really, really love making polenta. More than a decade ago my Grandfather died. He came from an Italian family and since then, my grandmother had not had polenta UNTIL I made it one night. She told me how much it reminded her of him and how happy she was I did it, and since then, I’ve become the polenta master in the family. My “go-to” recipe uses goat cheese, toasted pine nuts, figs, and a fried egg on top.
3) What is/was your biggest hindrance when it comes to cooking? Is it the calories? The fat? The carbs? What are/were your fears?
It’s the need to stop trying to control and calculate everything. I can eat 1000 calories in a meal — BUT I feel like I “have” to know that’s what I’m getting. It’s made me an abuser of the kitchen scale, and it’s shameful to break it out in front of family and friends. I also really struggle with eating big meals because, when your life is so focused on food, you seem to always want to be eating. So “meals” become the antithesis of the perfect eating day, where you’d just be snacking regularly. But that is not normal life, and I’ll never be able to breakaway and enjoy the other things I want to enjoy and love in life if I do that.
I have a question for you or anyone else out there, particularly those who regularly eat, well, “crap.” Do you ever struggle with wanting to offet the empty calories with healthy foods, and then struggle with feeling like the equations never work, and you’ve just got to excercise more and more? I think some people call it “reactive” eating? I have had a tough go of it as of late, and it’s really taken its toll on my joints.
Another amazing post. Thank you.
Here are my answers:
1) What is/was food to you?
Ahhh…food is practically my life. It’s not my entire life, but it’s the most important thing in my life, probably, if only because of my disordered eating habits. I’ve always loved food and as a child I ate my favorite foods with wild abandon, but when I became anorexic at age 10 I really became obsessed. I remember I had two favorite cookbooks–a pasta cookbook (carbs! I didn’t even know what those were at the time but I knew that pasta=fat) and a brownie cookbook (butter! sugar! deliciousness!) I used to pore through them staring at the pictures.
2) Do you cook? How do you cook? Do you eat what you cook?
Yes, I love cooking! Admittedly part of the reason I love cooking is probably ED-based–I LOVE measuring and I get some sort of perverse pleasure out of pouring ingredients into measuring cups and spoons and calculating the calories in whatever I’m making. But I also find cooking incredibly relaxing, especially the monotonous tasks like chopping vegetables and stirring. It always calms me down at the end of an anxiety-ridden day. And I feel very proud when I manage to make something delicious–I do eat everything I cook!
3) What is/was your biggest hindrance when it comes to cooking? Is it the calories? The fat? The carbs? What are/were your fears?
I think my main thing is I’m terribly afraid of oil. I used to eat a lot of vegetables roasted and grilled in oil (that other people made for me) and they actually gave me pretty bad indigestion every time, which is probably part of the reason, but also oil just seems like the epitome of evil empty calories.
Argh, my disordered answers make me so annoyed at myself, but it’s the truth! Thanks for providing an opportunity to think about these things
Great post again. You do a great job getting your thoughts and experiences down on paper (electronically speaking that is). Japanese label reading is not that easy either, but I have found the government agency site (like the FDA site in the US) and I have found the order of how things are listed to I know which numbers pertain to which nutrient. Obviously I check this for pure curiosity and it doesn’t have en effect anymore on if I will eat something or not. I do like that the Japanese package their foods into more appropriate serving sizes. Also, the low fat or fat free options are not common in Japan. They do have fat free milk but it sounds like the same as your experiences in Singapore. Have a happy new year and be safe.
You’re such a brilliant writer. I love these posts.
Funny enough, this was a major contributor to my recovery as well. When I first started my blog, I still had a terrible ED, and therefore didn’t post very often. I didn’t follow other blogs, because I didn’t want to see their food and be tempted to make it. Mine was “good enough” for me, it was “safe.” But slowly, I started to be drawn to other blogs. In the same way you described, I was obsessed with looking at recipes on blogs, in cookbooks, in magazines…I’d bookmark them, tear them out, print them off, but never make them. It wasn’t until earlier this year that I started to get more comfortable with cooking with oils, adding fats, eating breads, white flour, white sugar…things I used to never allow myself. I’ve developed a healthier relationship with food, and it feels amazing. Letting go of my food fears has made my blog better, made me feel more comfortable with myself, and brought me closer to Dallas. Maybe I enjoy cooking a little too much now, but I like it that way
Thank you so much for these posts, Sophia! I feel like I can really relate to them.
I have to admit. I am a girl who exercises not just to maintain my fitness, strength, stamina, etc but also to keep in shape. When I was young, food (rice, bread etc) was a way of providing sustenance to my body, and of course the occasional treat like ice-cream and chocolates that cheer me up when I was down, but really, it never occurred to me that one day when I grow up, cake could be more than just an indulgence, simply because I was exposed to the word: calorie.
This whole eating disorder experience opened me up to so many things that I’ve never realised. And that in life, besides food and working out, there are so many things worth my concern rather than dwelling on stuff like that. I love food. I still do. And I always will. But I want to make sure that even if at times I don’t get to enjoy that particular food that I eat, I’m okay with that because as long as I make sure my hunger is relieved, it’s alright; if at times I would very much prefer to eat healthier but have no choice and have to stick with a greasy, spicy (I can’t stand spicy food) meal, I’ll do my best to savour it with a thankful heart because I know out there in the world, a lot more poor children are suffering from hunger.
I want to not be attached to food, as if food is my only source of comfort, because it would be an unhealthy, detrimental obsession. I know all too well that too much of ANYTHING (say ten HEALTHY oatmeal cookies vs one ‘unhealthy’ shortbread cookie, obviously the latter’s better) is unhealthy. So really, I want to live life to the fullest, and enjoy food just the way it should be
P/s: Happy New Year, have a great 2012 ahead of you!
Great post as usual Sophia – wishing you a happy and healthy 2012! Hugs!
Cliche time here: food is like an abusive lover to me. It hurts me, causes me pain, and yet I can’t get enough of it, I keep returning to it and crawling back even though I know it’s no good for me. Except obviously I have to eat…so there endeth the analogy, I suppose.
I used to live in pre-portioned ready meals all the time when I was vegetarian – initially veganism was a way of breaking out of that rigidity through some sense of ethical peace but portion control really was essential for me, unfortunately, because coming from the perspective of an over and not undereater I will *always* find an excuse to give myself more. It’s hard not to resent food when it consumes your thoughts incessantly (no pun intended).
My biggest hinderance with cooking is lack of patience and ability…and fighting not to eat half the meal before it even makes it to the plate.
Have a fab 2012.
xxx
Oh I definitely remember that feeling of poring over luscious cakes and macaroni and cheese photos on the internet. And baking. and never eating. Any of it.
And then I started a blog. And cooking started to mean something for ME. And though I think you can still see the ED tendencies for the first year…how I substituted oil with applesauce constantly, etc., I think I’ve finally reached some kind of balance. i’m still going to eat my crazy healthy dinners because that fuels my love of running better than five hundred chocolate bars…but I’m also going to eat my full fat cupcake too.
Thanks for writing, love!
Cooking definitely helps me for sure. I find when I eat my own stuff I tend to be much better. Happy New Year, sweetie! I’m looking forward to hopefully seeing you soon and definitely communicating with you on a regular basis through email/phone. You are a true inspiration! This new year for me will be about breaking patterns
Not an easy thing to do, but a must.
OH yes! I love how other countries do not have many diet foods! I love being here n New Zealand for that reason. I shop at different stores for more groceries, like markets! I love cooking because it helps me nourish my family. That has been my focus since getting married and it truly has turned around my way of food. I look at ingredients now, not calories. Keeping it real, flavorful, and just plain GOOD! AMen!?!
Cheers to you Lovely Sophia.
Tantalizing post, Sophia. Thanks for sharing. Happy New Year from Pennsylvania. (Yes, I too miss that drop in NYC:)
I read this last night and had SO much to comment on so I had to save it until I had a moment to sit down.
For me, I went to culinary school at the height of my ED. Crazy, right? And in a sense, it was a double edge sword. On one hand, I totally got into that habit you go into about not obsessively measuring and using full fat stuff, but on the other hand, it go me obsessed with food in general. I’d live, breath, study, and work with food! I became obsessed with cooking for others but I actually rarely let myself eat enough to be at a healthy weight. I think now I’m better with that. I don’t watch food network too often, I don’t cook ALL the time, and best of all, I actually eat the food I make (actually, its rare that I share
).
Oh and great seeing you the other day! We need to meet again, one on one and gossip. Happy New Year!
You write as though you could see into my mind, into my (recent) past. It’s breath-catching to read these posts, and to realize I’m not the only one, we’re not the only ones…
It’s not post-relevant, but happy New Year to you, Sophia! May you have health, happiness and a glorious 2012!
The way you write about ED is so scary because it’s so true. But in a way, it comforts me to know that I’m not the only one who acted like that. Thank you:)
Thanks for this post, Sophia. I, too, found true freedom through the act of cooking, rather than the fetishization of it. One of the most transformative moments of my life!
I cook and will eat anything that I cook. I also bake (but don’t really enjoy it) and only eat a few nibbles of what I bake, mostly because I am not a sweets person, and don’t really enjoy or crave baking. I mostly bake for dessert for dinner parties, friends birthdays etc, because people like dessert. Me, I’d rather have a bunch of bacon and cheese instead of cake or pie. I am not afraid of calories, I love ‘em.
Lovely post, Sophia – Happy New Year!
This is something that I’ve been thinking a lot about recently. Why? I used to be a HUGE baker and baked things all the time, even though I have no interest in eating sweets (not ED-related, I just prefer pizza to pie.) Anyway, this past year I’ve realized and accepted that I really have no interest whatsoever in baking, reading websites about baking, etc. Even though I might not be weight restored, I think my mind is in a much healthier place and honestly, obsessing about those things bores me to death now.
When it comes to cooking, I struggle with what is still the disorder and what is me, as I’m not much of a creative cook. I know what I like and stick to the basics. But again, I think it’s more the fact that I just don’t enjoy spending hours in the kitchen when I could be doing something else. The key for me is that I eating a varied vegetarian diet of whole “real” foods has actually been an escape from the meticulous calorie counting meals I used to rely on. There is no real “label” on a whole avocado or scoops of nut butters. Yes, I could look it up, but size varies and it’s unreliable. I’ve come to realize that as long as it’s what I like (yes, I like natural and whole, but with exceptions) it doesn’t matter what numbers are associated with it. My body lets me know when I need more, not my mind, and although I still have a long way to go with my weight, my mind is miles ahead–in a good way.
Is that still disordered? Maybe, but I do allow myself to eat what I want and don’t feel deprived. I know my choices are what I prefer for TASTE and not for some ED quota, so it’s just a matter of eating more of them. Great post
The intro to this post is me to a T. I love to cook – anything really – but the idea of eating anything not “safe” is still very scary to me. I even worked for a caterer whose tag line was “never trust a skinny chef”. As I was promoting the business, folks would say to me “well you must not be cooking or eating any of the food – you’re not chubby at all!” It wasn’t a good place for my food issues, so I had to part ways. It sucked because I really did love it.
Even today when cooking for just myself, I find myself cooking in a “safe” way, but when cooking for others, I’m able to let go of the food anxieties. It can be stressful but I know it’s helping to get me back to a better, “normal” place.
Sophia,
This is a huge reality check for me, and it could not have come at a better time, with it being a new year and all. As a kid, and in my non-ED days I never took much of an interest in cooking; I ate what my mom made, my Poptarts, chewy bars, Yoplait (gasp SUGAR) yogurts, etc. In college I developed bulimia, and still never cooked, but rather binged on loads of packaged food.
Cue anorexia, and I have spent the past year + obsessed with cooking and baking. Sometimes I bake somewhat “healthified” treats, but I always estimate the calories and portion sizes. If I bake regular items, they’re always for my family, unless I have a lapse of control and sneak some nibbles. I’m so embarrassed of this relationship, because to an extent it is a fun and soothing activity. However, I (NOT my ED) love to decorate baked goods… that stems from my artistic side.
With cooking, I’ve been “good” at times, trying to cook regular, balanced recipes for me and my family. But a few times denoting these dishes and recipes on my meal plan led to reprimanding from my nutritionist. She became concerned that I was not fulfilling all of my dietary exchanges.. and those comments really squashed the healthy/less controlled attitude I had been developing. Currently, I’m at a place where I measure and count EVERYTHING, and often make single – MAYBE double – serving recipes, that I can easily control and portion. Again, it’s very frustrating.
For now, my challenges are to select “combo” items off of the dietary exchange list. Like lasagna, for protein, starch and fat exchanges, or a muffin for a starch/fat combo. I, like you, love to see my food perfectly separated. Ergg.
Like I said, perfect timing for your post to draw my attention to this aspect of recovery. Thank you for your wonderful insight, and have a happy new year!
Erin
Food is definitely something I eat because I’m hungry. What I eat depends on what I just happen to be hungry for. I definitely used to be SO meticulous about having the perfect balance of calories, fat, protein and carb grams. If I exercised for so many minutes I was alloted an extra so many calories and had to add so many grams of protein to the day. If I didn’t exercise calories HAD to be subtracted. Everything had to be perfect. I’ve tried to start counting calories and protein and whatnot again for athletic performance… and it never works out for me. I get too critical of what I eat and usually get freaked out by how many calories I eat… Personally, for me, I just get triggered into restriction when I try to count. It’s healthier for me not to count.
As for cooking… I can’t cook. I can make toast, microwave foods and heat up vegetables. That’s about it. Thankfully I’m a pretty simple eater so I’m fine with very simple (or no) seasonings on my food!
I do feel like cooking for yourself is a double edged sword. You can use it to make healthy dishes, but it can also be a way of over-monitoring your intake.
I also experienced that cooking helped me a lot to establish a healthier relationship with food. I cook what I eat. I try out new things. I did it step by step, but I did it, and it really helped me.
What a huge huge inspiration. I am where you were in so many ways.
I want to “learn to cook” <— REALLY cook.
But I know I will be unable to jump right in. I need a couple "starter" challenges under my belt.
Any pointers for where to begin (in my case the "go big or go home" is a non option)?
Email me, Missy! We’ll catch up and talk.
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