Kitchen Chaos

I've spent the past two Friday nights directing chaotic kitchens. One could argue that I trained for this most of my life. As a kid I remember the Friday afternoon frenzy in my house, as my mother came home from work and scrambled to prepare for the Sabbath before the sun set. The craziness of those afternoons was perfectly matched by the calmness of Friday night, when we would sit around the candlelit table eating and talking and then move to the living room where we would bury our noses in books and magazines and newspapers, reading until each member of my family would, one by one, retire for the evening. These past two Fridays were host to Top Chef: Bastyr and Teen Feed, both of which had the same basic principle: cook a meal for a lot of people and have it ready to be served by 7pm sharp, but neither ended in the same relaxing manner that I grew up with: a glass of tea, sitting on the couch, reading in silence surrounded by my family.

The kitchen as a site for chaos and calm, emotional ecstasy and release, has been a fascination of mine ever since I read Como Agua Para Chocolate (Like Water for Chocolate) in my college Spanish class. In the tradition of magical realism the book centers on Tita, born to a family in Mexico whose tradition is that the youngest daughter takes care of the mother and does not marry. Tita is born in the kitchen and raised by the family cook and expresses her feelings through her cooking. When her mother forces her to bake the cake for her sister's wedding (to the man Tita loves), Tita's tears fall into the batter and when the guests taste the cake the next day they all break down in tears for their true love.

Wedding cake scene from "Like Water for Chocolate"

My first year at Bastyr I took a class called Whole Foods Production, a basic cooking class required for all nutrition students. Each week we prepared whole foods meals, experimenting with different grains and greens and protein sources. One week I was assigned to make the polenta, a job that required 45 minutes of active stirring to prevent clumping in the pot. Our instructor explained that making polenta is an act of love. Check out her video, where she explains why she makes Bastyr students think loving thoughts while making polenta:

This past Friday night we did not make polenta, but 15 Bastyr volunteers cooked and served a meal of tortilla soup, enchilada casserole, Spanish rice, salad and brownies, to around 50 homeless youth. We put tremendous effort into designing and preparing the meal so it would be whole foods-based, nutritionally dense and still delicious and appealing. Since it was our first time using the church kitchen and making the recipes in such large quantities there were many bumps and unexpected surprises along the way. Ovens that didn't work, rice that wouldn't cook, pots that were too small. Until the very last minute it was unclear whether we would pull it off. But at 7pm as the door opened and kids lined up, we were completely prepared and even looked like we knew what we were doing. We served the kids and then we sat and ate with them, enjoying the food together. By the end of the night it seemed that the love and effort we had put into their meal outweighed the chaos that preceded it. So while a Friday night spent cooking in a church was far from the experience of my youth, it was equally gratifying.

Stuff White People Like

I never really considered myself a white person. I imagined that white people were like the popular kids at school - they knew they were privileged and that they wielded significant power. I, on the other hand, was always keenly aware that I was different from the American mainstream. I didn't grow up celebrating Christmas, Easter or Halloween, I had never even attended a school that had a dance and the once treyf Oreo cookies were substituted in my diet with kosher Hydrox sandwich cookies. I certainly felt like a minority. Confused as to why there was never a "Jewish" circle to shade on demographic surveys, I often penciled in "other" or left the entire field blank. That was before I discovered the site Stuff White People Like and realized I was apparently whiter than Wonder Bread.*

*Disclaimer: There are too many reasons why this statement (and post) might be offensive. But that only proves my point. (See SWPL #50 and #101).

1. Stuff White People Like

I don't remember when I first learned of the Stuff White People Like blog, but in the past three years it has spawned books and debates and humor and has become the very thing it mocks. I admit that I am guilt of liking just about everything on their list and that makes me feel pretty vanilla. Then I read this piece about White People Food and it struck a nerve, claiming that the New American cuisine, the Alice Waters "farm-to-table" beets and kale and quinoa diets that foodies laud has a certain "monolithic blandness" to it. And the writer makes some pretty good points along the way, albeit in a snarky self-righteous tone. But rather than wallow in criticism (another thing White People Like?) perhaps the article could focus on the ways in which American food culture has become a sort of melting pot (salad bowl?) of ethnic foods, opening more people's eyes to the variety of culinary traditions around the world and enabling fusion of different flavors. Furthermore, America's lack of definitive culinary traditions has made it easy to invent a standard "healthy" diet to counteract the detrimental effects of the standard American diet (or the "SAD" diet). Still, kale and beets are not always the answer. Sometimes it's rice or beans or kasha or tofu or sea vegetables. Or reindeer meat.

2. Anthony Bourdain

He travels the world eating exotic foods and is the foil to Rick Steves' nice guy tour guide persona. His writing style, even more than his television persona, is smart and engaging. And his episode of No Reservations in Sweden rocked my world. Bourdain visits the Sami people of Sweden, where reindeer herding is the main occupation, and their meat and blood are important sources of sustenance. They are becoming slightly more Westernized but for the most part their diets are still heavily reliant upon reindeer meat. In this 2006 study on Lifestyle, Genetics and Disease in Sami, researchers found that the Sami diet, high in meat and low in fruits and vegetables, is

"contrary to most national dietary recommendations and may be expected to be deficient in certain nutrients, particularly those that mostly come from plant foods (eg fiber and some water soluble vitamins.) Several studies have found that in general, the Sami have adequate intake of all micronutrients except for folic acid, fiber, and calcium and iron for women. However, differences in dietary intake do not appear to have led to any differences in serum lipid profiles."

Populations have lived and thrived off a variety of diets around the world for ages. And while I love kale which grows abundantly in my region, the Northwest, must everyone really include it in their diets?

3. Reality TV

While No Reservations may be the one quasi-reality show that I sometimes watch (okay, with the very occasional Matchmaker Millionaire with my roommates), there was a time when I watched an entire season of Top Chef. I was at my parents' house to stay with my grandmother who has Alzheimer's and needed to be watched. She had little attention span for anything but Top Chef on Bravo. Thankfully they were having a marathon and together we watched nearly an entire season. It was the only time I really watched the show on tv. But last year when I met with my classmates to launch the 2010-11 Student Nutrition Association at my school, I suggested we host a contest similar to Top Chef. Six months later, after hours upon hours of meetings and emails and preparation, Top Chef: Bastyr was launched and was a huge success. With eight teams of two students competing in the school's Nutrition Kitchen using limited ingredients, we invited guests to sample the fare, vote for their favorite, and listen to the judges opinions on the matter. The event raised nearly $1300 toward our meal team for Teen Feed and was a fun way to use the culinary arts to bring about social change. Hopefully it will continue next year as well, with a few tweaks and changes to make it a bit smoother.

4. Wikipedia

During the first week of work back in 2003, one of my more eccentric colleagues came up behind me and whispered in my ear, "type this into your browser: E-N-dot-W-I-K-I-P-E-D-I-A-dot-O-R-G." It brought up a page that lacked an eye-popping design and was covered in too many words. Before I could verbalize the question mark that must have appeared on my face he explained that this was Wikipedia, an online encyclopedia that anyone could contribute toward and edit. He told me that it was a democratic site that would change the world, with new languages added all the time. I thought he was nuts. He spent most of his nights writing articles and would occasionally leave town for "conferences." For months I scoffed at Wikipedia. Then he left his job to take a full-time position at Wikimedia. The joke was on me. I can no longer deny the impact Wikipedia has had in its first 10 years. And I don't know what my go-to site would be every time a random question popped into me head.

5. Impact

Since it is already 2011, I can use the word impact, a commonplace buzzword in the world of non-profit organizations (Stuff White People Like #12). But even in its most basic, untainted form, it conveys a level of influence or "force exerted by new ideas." And in the hopes of making an impact, next week I will join dietitians from all over the state of Washington to lobby our legislators to support nutrition programs and legislation (see SWPL #62).

Some of the runners up for this post were "Stream of Consciousness" a la Holden Caulfield and Catcher in the Rye. But rather than listing it blatantly, I felt that employing some stream of consciousness was a better homage. "Chocolate" was another big contender, but, well, most people like chocolate. And anyway next week I have some international chocolatiers staying on my couch so I may have more to say about it then. Also, I was afraid people might get confused, inverse the descriptors and think I meant that white people like white chocolate. And that's just crazy talk.

Personal Growth

A full week into the new year now and time has become quite the luxury. With school and internship applications and other projects on my plate, it may not be the best time to step back and chart my personal growth, but if I wait for the perfect time it may never come. The topic of growth crossed my mind on several occasions this week. As I was going through my clinic notebook, making sure I have the necessary charts and tables and treatment plans, I realized I had neglected to include growth charts, which would be important in pediatrics. Growth charts allow for tracking the height and weight and other anthropometric measures of infants and children, allowing patterns to emerge. While I am well above 59 months of age, this week it felt like the right time to plot a new point on my personal growth chart.

After studying nutrition for over two years I finally had my first clinic shift with a patient. I was serving as a secondary with a more experienced classmate leading the session, but it was exciting nonetheless to be a vital part of the nutrition care process. Finally. I went to the clinic over the weekend to review the patient's chart. And then it clicked. PCOS. Depression. Metformin. Hyperlipidemia. I knew this case well. I knew it because ten years ago it was me.

Often when people ask about my background and I give them the elevator version of my experience there is a disconnect. Having studied Jewish studies and film criticism, worked for various non-profit organizations in education, the question understandably comes up: why nutrition? Over the years I have honed a vague but reasonably satisfying answer - nutrition is so important, it can improve quality of life, it's a matter of justice and social responsibility, it's empowering - and all of those things are completely true. But why did I change my life trajectory at the quarter mark and start along an entirely new path? That was the result of a long, slow and deeply personal experience. Suffice it to say that to see my first patient and confront my own diagnosis face to face, sitting this time in the clinician's seat, was at once profoundly meaningful and yet totally banal. That is growth.

It reminded me of a book I recently came across by Carol Dweck, Mindset: The New Psychology of Success. Dweck's ideas struck a chord and she argues that rather than being fixed in our sense of self - who we are and what we are - we should be willing to develop new abilities, work hard and focus on growth and learning.

In a fixed mindset, people believe their basic qualities, like their intelligence or talent, are simply fixed traits. They spend their time documenting their intelligence or talent instead of developing them. They also believe that talent alone creates success—without effort. They’re wrong.

In a growth mindset, people believe that their most basic abilities can be developed through dedication and hard work—brains and talent are just the starting point. This view creates a love of learning and a resilience that is essential for great accomplishment. Virtually all great people have had these qualities.

Teaching a growth mindset creates motivation and productivity in the worlds of business, education, and sports. It enhances relationships.

There have been many times in the past few years when I doubted my decision to leave what was familiar, what I knew, what I was good at, and try something completely new. I choose to read my experience at the clinic as a wink from the universe that I'm on the right path. And it could not have come at a better time. As I work on my applications for next year and look into the great unknown once again, I have to trust that things will work out, or at the very least trust that I am willing to view my circumstances from a mindset of growth and resilience.

My New Years Binge

It's a new year and a time for resolutions, as I witnessed by the enormous spike in attendance at my gym this past week. While I resisted the urge to post top ten lists and make promises to myself that I cannot keep, I do see the new year as a powerful tool as an opportunity for reflection.

I began the New Years season flying on the inspiring coattails of the Hazon Food Conference, a gathering of Jews on Christmas that did not involve Chinese food or movies. Rather, it was an event in the hills of Sonoma County that focused on food justice, sustainable agriculture and food education within a Jewish context. It might have been the perfect chance to blog furiously about all the people I met who are engaged in grassroots efforts to provide equal food access and education to communities throughout the country. But well outside of Wi-fi range, I was forced instead to focus on the event at hand, to talk to the people who had traveled from across the country to meet like-minded people who were excited about the (Jewish and non-Jewish) food movement.

(Photo taken at the Walker Creek Ranch, site of the Hazon Food Conference)

The next weekend I found myself once again without the familiar company of facebook, gmail and The New York Times. I spent New Years at the tip of the Olympic Peninsula, tucked away in a Wi-fi free beach cottage. It was relaxing, refreshing and majestic, with breathtaking views and scenery.

(Sunrise view of Mt. Rainier on January 1, 2011.)

What's my point and what does this have to do with a food blog? Well, while I can easily make these experiences sound incredible (and they were) I haven't yet mentioned the dark side. Each time, upon returning home, I completely binged on media and technology. While I sincerely appreciated the time away from phone calls and text messages, emails and videos, I could not stop myself from overindulging when I returned to "civilization." In fact, I spent the last hours of winter break hiding in my room watching the entire first season of Veronica Mars online - all 22 episodes - which, I should mention, I've already seen! I did pause it to make meals, do some yoga, walk around the lake and - ever so briefly - to sleep. What was going on? Why couldn't I stop? I was truly puzzled by this obsession. It reminded me of so many other situations - like when I'd had friends visit from out of town and they were thrilled to eat so healthfully in my house but then "snuck" out for Cold Stone Creamery because they could not deal with the lack of sweets I had to offer. Or when I'd gone to Guatemala and eaten "real" food for two weeks with friends who could not wait to get home and eat pizza and burgers. So I gave it some serious thought. Many of us have things that we do compulsively - eating, shopping, watching television, checking facebook - and how often do we pause to consider what is driving that urge? Determined to make some sense of my addiction I found some clues in the recesses on my old blog. Yes, I kept a blog years ago, the first time I was a graduate student, and there too I found an entry written after I voraciously consumed two seasons worth of Veronica Mars episodes. At the time I had worked hard to complete my master's degree, after which I spent six weeks traveling in Israel. Upon returning home I found myself facing an uncertain future, scared and insecure, inspired but exhausted from the previous months of excitement and I turned to a television series about a girl who searching for the truth about her best friend's murder. Driven by the need to seek out justice, she solves small crimes in each neatly packaged episode, while acquiring new answers to the larger question. Back then, as now, I latched on to Veronica's journey, followed her obsession, to avoid dealing with the looming questions: where will I be next year? what will I do after graduation? I've been down this road before and seeing it again in the distance is terrifying. Some people turn to food or alcohol to fill that empty void. I turn to mass media. I overconsume television shows, watching "marathons" (a term that makes it sound far more respectable than it is.) I overconsume online articles, clicking from one to the next in the search for greater understanding of the world, of justice, health, food and myself. Once again I find myself returning to this word, too banal to bear the weight of its meaning: moderation. Everything has its place, but how can we behave with the self-awareness to make sure it fits properly but does not monopolize our time, health and resources? How can we be satisfied with just one episode, one cookie, one beer? In a world with so much information, so many calories at our fingertips all the time, how can we avoid overconsumption?

36 Hours in Berkeley, Calif.

This week I found myself in Berkeley with a day and a half to kill between my family visit to Los Angeles and the start of the Hazon Food Conference in Sonoma County. I love the Bay Area but hadn’t spent much time in East Bay and was told that was the place to be if there was a chance of seeing sun. After weeks of rain, first in Seattle, then Durham, then Los Angeles, I would settle for partly cloudy skies.

Berkeley didn’t disappoint. From the moment I arrived not a drop of rain hit my head, though it did precipitate while I slept through the night. Armed with an empty belly, a few personal agenda items and a yoga mat, I made the most of my time in this foodie haven.

Tuesday

6 p.m.

1) STRETCH MY LEGS

After sitting through rain-induced flight delays at LAX and a (quick) flight to SFO I was ready to make use of the yoga mat I was lugging around California. To be fair, Leigh and I had experienced three different yoga instructors in the week I spent in Santa Monica. But to make it worthwhile I was determined to get in as much yoga as possible. I found Yoga Mandala, a studio nearby, and popped into a Vinyasa 2-3 class, a bit more advanced than I’m used to. The instructor was fantastic and made fun of us wannabe yogis in a sarcastic manner that I was not used to but it made me laugh and helped me get through the class. I felt long and limber when I left and purchased a beginner pass that would entitle me to 3 classes altogether, for a total of $30.

8 p.m.

2) FEED THE INNER YOGI

After yoga I was fairly hungry and it seemed appropriate to get some Indian food. I was tired too so I decided to stay local and walked to Royal Indian Cuisine. I’d planned to sit there but was a bit intimidated when I saw no other patrons and all of the owners and wait staff standing by the door. So I asked if they offered takeout and placed an order. I’d forgotten how much I loved Indian takeout, how it had been part of an old routine I’d developed in NYU. But when I tasted my dish I remembered the disadvantage to takeout – you can’t send your meal back when it’s too spicy.

10 p.m.

3) GIRLS NIGHT

While working on my presentation for the food conference I logged in to my boyfriend’s Netflix account to watch Julie & Julia, the mediocre movie based on the poorly written book based on the clever blog that I’d read years ago. The story of two strong and determined women who cook their way to personal, professional and financial success and freedom seemed like an inspired selection.

Wednesday

9 a.m.

4) PRANAYAMA

With less than two days to use a 3-class yoga pass I was determined to start my day with another stretching session at Yoga Mandala. This class, taught by the pregnant studio owner, was much more forgiving and involved a good deal of relaxation. I left invigorated and ready to start my day.

11 a.m.

5) MARKET RESEARCH

Though my time in Berkeley did not coincide with a farmer’s market day, I was excited to experience Berkeley Bowl. I satisfied my supermarket fetish by spending nearly an hour wandering up and down every single aisle, drooling over the produce displays, gawking at row after row of bulk bins and ended up purchasing far more than I could ever eat in the next few days.

3 p.m.

6) RUN FOR THE HILLS

After a few hours of working on my conference materials, I put on my running shoes and headed toward UC Berkeley. The campus was fairly quiet since it was winter break and I imagine running there might be more challenging when classes are in session. I made my way up the hill toward the stadium, which was under construction and completely gutted with only a few random chairs remaining. From there I enjoyed a clear view of downtown San Francisco, the Golden Gate Bridge and Marin County.

4 p.m.

7) STOP & SHOP

When I run in unfamiliar places I always take a credit card in case of emergency. Or in case I find some funky shoes on sale, as I happened on this particular day. Trying on the black and white T-strapped heels while wearing my running shorts accentuated how lengthy my legs could look in high-heeled shoes, which I hardly ever wear. But since I would be starting a clinic shift in just under two weeks I rationalized that this pair would be highly functional and far more professional looking than most of my shoes. I then continued my way back to the hotel but got distracted by Moe’s Books where I giddily basked in the used books section before making a few pointed purchases.

6 p.m.

8) FEAST FOR THE EYES

After a quick shower I headed out to the Gourmet Ghetto, as North Berkeley is known, to see what all the fuss was about. I followed my nose right into The Cheese Board Cooperative, where the live music was only outdone by the enticing aroma of their signature pizza. I continued up Shattuck Avenue and was amused by the awning that asked “What Are You Grateful For?” I’d read about Café Gratitude, which reminded me of my beloved Chaco Canyon Café, though infinitely more laughable with menu items such as "I Am Thriving" and "I Am Sensational." If I’d had more time I would’ve eaten there but instead I headed toward Chez Panisse to read the day’s menu, an impressive literary if not culinary feat. I stopped for gelato at Lush in the Epicurious Garden and made my way down to a copy center where I printed my conference papers.

8 p.m.

9) NOURISH

I put my name on this list at Gather, a seasonal and “thoughtful” restaurant catering to both vegetarians and omnivores. With an eye-catching design and a central location, Gather is perfectly poised to appeal to everyone – which it clearly does, given the 45 minute wait for a table on a Wednesday night. Flying solo, I opted for a seat at the bar and read over the menu to learn that Gather offers gourmet dining without the pretension of other foodie establishments. I started with a glass of Syrah and then, on a whim, I ordered the Vegan “charcuterie” and it was truly a revelation, and the first time I understood how one could be completely satisfied – though far from full - with a relatively small portion of food. I did not want another taste to cross my palate, lest I lose the rich, deep flavor of the meal that had preceded. Satiated and content I walked back to my hotel and contemplated another movie. In keeping with the theme of the day, perhaps Big Night?

12 a.m.

10) SLUMBER PARTY

I spent the evening catching up on phone calls, emails and blogging. Tomorrow morning I plan to take a third yoga class. Then pack and catch my ride up to Petaluma, where I will be out of contact until late on Sunday. Hopefully next time I will have more than just 36 hours to spend here. There are many more delectable meals to be enjoyed.

The Travel Bug

Sometime during the past few weeks, while traveling between Seattle, Los Angeles, San Diego, Minneapolis and Raleigh, I developed a sniffle. This was not surprising, given the time of year, the amount of time I’ve spent on airplanes, the exposure to pathogens shared by my fellow passengers and the lack of sleep from early flights. But a greater threat to my health was presented by the poor food options available to someone who finds herself in the airport day after day. As immunity decreases and sugar consumption increases the body becomes increasingly vulnerable so I was trying my hardest to avoid the great white offender. But it kept sneaking up on me and was hard to avoid while spending time in airports and hotels. Here are some of the situations I encountered:

In-flight beverages

On Thanksgiving day I had a 6am flight down to San Diego. I generally do not order anything on planes but after I finished drinking the bottle of water I had brought on board, I found myself thirsty and a bit hungry as well. I knew I’d be eating a large dinner early in the afternoon but thought I might satisfy my appetite with some cranberry juice, an apt Thanksgiving beverage. But what the flight attendant handed me was something called “cranberry drink” with very little trace of actual cranberries at all. The ingredients were corn syrup, high fructose corn syrup, sugar, water, apple and grape juice, with a hint of cranberry at the end of the list. I returned the full can to the puzzled flight attendant and thanked her anyway.

Stress food

I had the misfortune to connect in Minneapolis in mid-December on the very same weekend as the second largest snowstorm in the city’s history. The airport had closed for a day, leaving thousands of passengers stranded and unable to reach their destination. My flight was scheduled for the very next day and needless to say the seats were overbooked and highly coveted. I was concerned that my flight would be delayed and I would miss my connection so I tried to get on an earlier flight. In line I met a woman desperately trying to reach her hospitalized mother who had just had a heart attack. As we stood and waited to be helped she ate a large cookie, a bottle of Pepsi and then proceeded to take out a king size package of Twizzlers from her bag. She offered me some “stress food,” as she called it. “I never eat this crap but I’m very stressed out.”

(A Minneapolis attraction)

Meal vouchers

After missing my connection in Minneapolis by five minutes, the airline agent handed me vouchers for a hotel and for meals, presumably to cover the time until my rebooked flight at 11:30 the next morning. I examined the vouchers. She had given me two vouchers for $6 each. I remember back in 2003 when I’d been in a similar situation after missing a connection and had received $15 meal vouchers. How times have changed. When I got to the hotel I asked how I could use to the voucher. The front desk staff said they were intended for use at hotels with restaurants. This one did not have a restaurant. But, he offered, the Chili’s across the street would accept them, if they hadn’t already closed for the night. Which was just as well because I was not equipped to walk more than five steps in the 4-degree weather.

It turned out the hotel we stayed out had a small market, but its merchandise consisted of only chips, candy bars, soda and ice cream. Thankfully I always carry snacks and so for dinner I had an apple and polished off the Trader Joe’s trail mix I’d been eating for days, paired with some rice cakes and what remained of my Theo’s Orange Dark Chocolate bar. In the morning when I arrived at the airport again to fly standby I used my vouchers for breakfast. And it was a good thing I had not used either of them on dinner because the bowl of oatmeal I ordered used up both of them.

These were just a few of the hurdles I faced over the past few weeks in which I’ve departed SeaTac on four separate occasions. I made strong efforts to satisfy my hunger and not get sick and to avoid sugar like the devil. Still, I wasn’t sure this was enough. Determined to avoid the debilitating head cold I usually fall victim to over winter break, I launched a pre-emptive strike of my own. The secret weapon: black elderberry syrup. It is sweet and delicious, generally sold in honey, it packs vitamin C and antioxidants and has been studied for its alimentary effects. Whether or not it is potent enough to get me through the winter remains to be seen. In the meantime, with two more flights scheduled in the next two weeks, I hope to get plenty of sleep, fluids and exercise so I can avoid catching a winter cold.

Watching Weight Watchers

On this fifth night of the Festival of Latkes, I mean Lights, I'm feeling a bit like a French fry. After hosting a Hanukkah party on night #2 where we served zucchini and curried sweet potato latkes, my home still smells more like McDonald's than I'm comfortable admitting. As a result I will probably abstain from latkes for the next few days. And now so might many Weight Watchers clients.

This week the popular weight loss and management program unveiled its new PointsPlus system, a major overhaul of the widely popular and successful Points system eating plan started in 1997. For years WW had allotted each member a number of daily points that they could reach by carefully calculating the point values of their chosen meals and snacks. Under the plan point values were based solely on calories with slight considerations for fat and fiber. But with emerging trends in nutrition emphasizing the importance of foods for reasons beyond simply caloric content, WW went back to the drawing board to create a system that encouraged greater consumption of fruit and vegetables (all now worth zero points) recognizing that the body digests and metabolizes foods differently. And that's how PointsPlus was born, reintroducing bananas (which were 2 points under the old plan) into the diets of many clients who had long sworn them off. A serving of potato latkes, on the other hand, is now worth a whopping 7 points, according to a recent New York Times article.

WW is not for everyone. It's all about counting points and carefully tracking food and snacks in a way will appeal to some more than others. I've known many people who were very successful at losing weight under the WW plan and the Times article suggests that some followers of the original Points plan have no desire to change what is already working for them. The real significance of the new PointsPlus program is in its bold and daring move to once again change how we think about food. For over a decade WW had been advocating a certain calculated way to relate to food by calorie rather than nutrient content and they are suddenly presenting a very different model to millions of members worldwide. How well that new system is accepted and integrated by the public could provide some basis for the effectiveness of instituting new policies and asserting radical new public health positions that take into account our shifting attitudes toward food and nutrition. And that is worth waiting and watching.