With the
exception of mussels, which make me violently ill, I can eat pretty much
whatever I want and not gain weight. This, I concede, is a nice problem to have.
But there have been times—especially in the months leading up to my being
diagnosed with Alzheimer’s—during which I’ve been disconcertingly thin. Thanks
to a trip to Berlin and Prague last September, I embraced the Central European
Diet, consisting primarily of sausages and sauerkraut washed down by the best Pilsners
on earth. I gained back five pounds, getting me back to 140 pounds, more or
less my typical weight in middle age.
Once I regained those pounds, I started choosing carefully
what I would be eating. I’m no vegetarian. Paula and I eat fish or chicken at
least once a week. But I have pretty much abandoned red meat. My standard
breakfast consists of a double-serving of five-minute oatmeal. About once a
week I soak a half-cup of steel-cut oatmeal overnight, and then simmer it for
ten minutes in the morning. I add a half-cup of plain yogurt for the protein
and calcium, along with a mashed-up half-banana and raisins or dried
cranberries, and the contents of a single walnut.
Walnuts also feature in my typical lunch: I read somewhere
that five walnuts a day may help forestall Alzheimer’s. These kind of claims
are best consumed with a healthy sprinkling of skepticism, but, if you like
walnuts, there’s really no downside. Now that it’s summer, I’ve been eating a
lot of steamed spinach, and earlier this week Paula prepared a terrific kale
salad. I’ve also resumed eating broccoli, either raw, steamed, or boiled. I also
consume a lot of chickpeas, either in the form of hummus or in a simple
chickpea salad. Organic carrots have been a staple in our kitchen for years,
and I almost always eat them raw.
I also consume a lot of fruit—huge quantities of Bing
cherries from Eastern Washington this time of year. Unfortunately, according to
Jay Ingram, author of The End of Memory:
A Natural History of Aging and Alzheimer’s, Bing cherries and other fruits
seem to lack some quality that most vegetables have: the ability, to some modest
extent, to delay the disease’s progress.
Over the last week or two, my lunch has often included
tins of sardines or herrings, each of which are rich in omega 3 fatty acids, an
element said to be good for the brain. Herring
has the aesthetic edge in that it is less fishy-tasting and, more important, less
fishy-smelling. To further blunt the taste, I serve the herrings or sardines on
a bed of wilted spinach, and then top the fish with slender rings of raw
onions. I finish off the entrée with a simple dressing of olive oil, balsamic
vinegar, and ground pepper. It’s good. Believe me. Paula prefers that I eat it
out on our deck, and she has developed a strict protocol for disposing of the can’s
smelly residue. The procedure is too complicated to describe here, but it appears
likely to win approval from the Food and Drug Administration. Already OK’d are
my canned salmon-and-onion sandwiches, served between two slices of multigrain bread.
One thing worth underscoring: It would be hard to devote
so much time to my diet if I were still employed. Following the slow-food
movement requires leisure time, and for the first time in decades, time is a robust
commodity of mine.
Mitch
ReplyDeleteI hope you pick up some of those marcona almonds we enjoyed last night at Paul's party. They are good brain food and a special treat at my house.
Marisa
I'll look for them at the nearest Whole Foods. Thanks. Great to see so many former colleagues last night.
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