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It’s the fifth annual Diabetes Blog Week, with thanks to the lovely Karen Graffeo from Bitter~Sweet Diabetes. Today it’s diabetes in pictures. Come back tomorrow for the last instalment, and in the meantime, check out #DBlogWeek and follow along!
It’s Saturday and this morning, I had to work for a short while at a diabetes event. And when I was done, there was only one way to celebrate the real start of the weekend. With these:
A new cafe has opened up in my ‘hood serving amazingly good coffee and this fabulous dish. Yes – the doughcakes are delicious. They’re fluffy and light and filled with strawberry jam, which oozes out onto the serving board in a most pleasing way. But the most exciting thing? The bacon ice cream. Yes. Bacon. Ice. Cream.
Has there ever been a better nod to the DOC than this very dish? The only way it could be better if it was served up by unicorns.
So yes. I can eat that, and thanks to that nifty little pump thing, insulin takes care of all the carbs.
There seems to be a little bit of a theme to my Saturday Snaps for Diabetes Blog Week. Last time this was the prompt, I wrote (and snapped) about cupcakes. Apparently, when it comes to pictures of diabetes, it’s all about the food for me!
I’m on a bit of a language thing at the moment. (I should add that my language is pretty horrid a lot of the time. Current diabetes burnout combined with general feelings of exhaustion mean the f-bomb gets dropped far more than it should. Our swear jar is so full that it has become our daughter’s private school education fund. But, I digress…..)
Today though, I am writing about how the language of food sends us down a slippery slope of guilt and competitiveness.
We say things such as ‘naughty’, ‘guilty pleasure, ’oh, I shouldn’t’ or ‘I’ve been so good lately’ when talking about food. We say that food is ‘good’ or ‘bad’ for us.
No, it’s not. Food doesn’t have a moral compass.
Stupid comments like ‘a moment on the lips; a lifetime on the hips’ mean we feel guilty about having a piece of cake or a chocolate bar when we should just enjoy it for what it is – something sweet and delicious!
We start this when talking about the nutrition babies receive (thank goodness the babes in arms are unable to comprehend what we’re saying).’ Breast is best’, we’re told, and nutritionally that may be correct. But the demonisation of formula only makes those unable or not wanting to breastfeed feel they’re failing their babies. Although, that doesn’t last. I went from looks of approval and comments of ‘aren’t you wonderful’ for breastfeeding my daughter. Until she got to 18-months when suddenly I was being asked when I was going to stop.
In recent times, we’ve added ethical eating into the mix so the good/bad extends to more than health. Suddenly, we’re expected to feel guilty if we’re not eating and drinking ethically sourced foods and beverages. Are those apples organic? Is your coffee single origin fair trade?
Today, in The Age there’s an article about clean eating and what using this terminology hints at, saying ‘It implies that anyone who doesn’t eat in the way you deem “clean” is eating “dirty.”’
We detox, inferring that we are full of toxins. We’re not and suggesting that our body is a poisonous, polluted pit of impurities that needs to be exorcised is nothing more than a money making scam at best; a way of making us feel somehow unclean at worst.
Messaging gets confusing – think about how the I Quit Sugar movement has impacted on people with diabetes who already spend a lot of time ‘un-demonising’ sugar. ‘You should do that. It’s good for people with diabetes.’ I’ve been told several times. How? It’s pointless and just like every other diet craze. And mind your own business, by the way.
Reading about food used to be so much fun. The Magic Faraway Tree series included tales of pop biscuits, toffee shocks, lands where lollies grew on trees, and everywhere, oh everywhere, there was warm toast with lashings of butter. There were Mad Hatter Tea Parties, and Harry Potter feasts were full of Pumpkin juice and Butterbeer. Books such as Like Water for Chocolate describe dishes such as ‘quail in rose petal sauce’, and Chocolat sets scenes with ‘The air is hot and rich with the scent of chocolate’. Food is a celebration and joy and a delight. No one counts calories or promises to ‘be good tomorrow’.
I don’t think that we need to go so far as only using utilitarian words such as ‘fuel’ to describe food. But I do think it’s time we moved away from the judgement and the guilt-inducing rhetoric that accompanies the language of food.
Friday listening and dancing – James Taylor singing ‘How sweet it is to be loved by you’ which is for my beautiful daughter who means I get to celebrate Mothers’ Day on Sunday.
A montage by photographer and Marios waiter Massimo di Sora.
Today, my all-time favourite café turns 28 years old. Marios café (named for its two owners, Mario Maccarone and Mario De Pasquale, hence no apostrophe) is celebrating its birthday and remains the ultimate in Melbourne café culture. It’s unapologetic (still doesn’t serve skim milk, although did succumb a couple of years ago and started to offer soy) and reliable (never had a bad coffee!).
I’ve been going to Marios for pretty much all of its 28 years – first with my parents and then with friends. Once I left school, meeting up with people at Marios was the epitome of cool! Great jazz on the stereo, a gorgeous changing art display showcasing local talent, and the best coffee in Melbourne. Plus tablecloths on the tables, smartly dressed waiters and breakfast served all day. There have been many times that I’ve ordered scrambled eggs or a blueberry bagel at 10pm!
Back in my uni days, it was the location for many first dates and I could always tell if there would be a second date by whether or not the guy knew of Marios when I suggested we meet there. In any relationship break up in the division of cafes and pubs and places we’d hung out, I always got Marios!
Marios is where I take overseas friends when I want them to have a truly Melbourne café experience. DOC friends from home and abroad have been taken there and just a couple months ago, a group of us got together to catch up. It’s where I meet up with friends who have moved overseas when they come home for a visit. My beautiful friend Shannon who moved from Melbourne to Hong Kong and then the UK over 15 years ago and I have a standing date any time she’s in town so she can get a fix of Marios lasagne! Recently, I caught up with a long-lost friend and there was no doubt about where we would meet.
There have been many memorable visits to Marios including the night before my daughter was born, where I checked my watch every ten minutes, counting down until the time I would meet her, and the day she came home from hospital, where a pit stop was made to show her off to the waiters.
I’ve laughed, cried, and had some of the most serious conversations of my life in Marios. I’ve said goodbye to friends and welcomed them back into my life. I’ve met up with people for difficult, heartbreaking chats because it’s always felt safe.
I can still remember my first trip to Marios after I was diagnosed with diabetes. It was only a week or two later and it was the first time I was eating out. It was where I did my first ‘public injection’ and I can remember my heart racing as I pulled my insulin pen out of my bag and tried to jab my stomach secretly. I was sure everyone was watching me, judging me, waiting to jump on me and tell me to put it away. No one noticed and if they did, said nothing. I searched the menu for food that the ridiculously old-school dietitian I had seen would approve of and I wondered if it would be okay for me have chocolate sprinkled on top of my cappuccino. I fought back tears as I asked the waiter for sugar substitute and then explained why I was asking. My coffee was on the house that day.
Now, I don’t hide away my BGL checks or pulling my pump out from under my clothes when I am out, and it was at Marios that I realised that I had nothing to be ashamed about when it came to ‘public displays of diabetes’. Marios normalised eating out with diabetes – the new reality of my life.
I felt safe there. I knew I would not be questioned. I knew that I would still be the old me there and Marios would never change. It felt like it always did. It felt like home.
Marios Cafe
303 Brunswick Street Fitzroy VIC
(03) 9417 3343
http://www.marioscafe.com.au
At this time of year, lots of chocolate may come into your life. This is to be celebrated – diabetes or no diabetes.
I don’t hand out advice, but I do share things I’ve learnt. And I’d like to share this: sugarfree chocolate is the work of the devil. It does weird things to your insides, leaves an odd metallic coating in your mouth, will make you spend a lot of time in the loo and basically tastes like crap a little unsavoury.
Eating the real thing is far better and definitely bolus-worthy. My favourite chocolate to eat at Easter is in the form of a dark chocolate Lindt Gold Bunny. I’m also partial to anything from Haigh’s chocolate.
I read the other day that if you crack open your eggs (Bunny) before eating, all the calories fall out.* So smash the bejeezus out of your chocolate before eating it, make it dark chocolate and I think that you’ve pretty much got a health food in front of you.**
Also, there is to be no guilt associated with eating any said chocolate.
Enjoy the next couple of days and I’ll see you next week with a belly full of real chocolate!
*Not proven by science.
**I’m not a dietitian and this bit could be made up.
It’s Friday evening and the end of a busy week.
But before arriving home for an early night of not-very-much, I detoured to one of my favourite cafés, Marios, for a DOC meet-up.
Coming together, a few regular OzDOC-ers, a GBDOC-er we’re now calling one of our own and a delightful representative from the South African DOC.
Thanks, Twitter, for bringing us all together!
Someone said to me yesterday that it seems that I only ever eat doughnuts and Nutella. Or doughnuts with Nutella. This was in response to a photo I posted on Facebook which showed the kiddo and a couple of her friends being shown how to make Nutella spring rolls*. Actually, it was in response to most of the photos I post on Facebook which may or may not be of doughnuts and Nutella. Whatever!
People seem to love pointing out what they consider to be the irony of a person with diabetes having such a strong love of fried sweet dumplings. It’s possible that the happiest day of my life was the day I discovered Doughnut Plant in New York.
But there’s no irony as far as I’m concerned. I love a good custard bomba, sugar-coated zippoli or jam-filled doughnut. And I have diabetes. And I have an insulin pump and I know how to use it! I must have missed the day at diabetes school where we were told we couldn’t eat doughnuts.
We are told that there is no such thing as a ‘diabetic diet’, yet the mixed messages we receive about what we ‘should’ and ‘should not’ be eating only lead to judgement and accusatory questions such as ‘should you be eating that?’ The stigma associated with diabetes and the media’s misrepresentation of all people with diabetes as overweight, lazy, fast-food-guzzling machines perpetuates the myth that food for people with diabetes should be cardboard-flavoured and devoid of any enjoyment.
Well I say screw that!
For the record (and in a pathetic-and-less-than-half-arsed attempt to justify my eating habits), I actually do enjoy an incredibly healthy diet. I cook most days and there are always lots of fresh vegies and lean meat on my plate. But there is no fun in posting a photo of chicken paillard with rocket, avocado and walnuts. As delicious as it may be.
Today is Mardi Gras and whilst I can’t be in New Orleans to join in Fat Tuesday celebrations (if only!) I will be thinking of beignet – the pillowy, fried and sugary doughy delights that I enjoyed in great quantities at Café du Monde when I visited the great NOLA last year. And at some point today, I hope to have one or three (with a side of insulin), sprinkling icing sugar down my front as I wave a handkerchief, walking the second line as Melbourne celebrates Mardi Gras in our own way.
Also – here you go! Some Disney and Dr John magic for your Tuesday.
Nutella Spring Rolls
Add a dollop (about a teaspoon-full) of Nutella to the middle of a spring roll or wonton wrapper
Fold in the sides and then roll into a cigar shape
Seal edges with egg
Fry in vegetable oil
Sprinkle with icing sugar and eat while hot
Enjoy
Bolus as required (either using a pump, pen, syringe or working pancreas)
Hypo Boy (AKA Spike Beecroft) is back with what I hope will be his first of many 2014 posts for Diabetogenic. Here, he shares some of his hypo stories. Thanks mate!
Hypos, like taxes, Christmas and birthdays happen. You can try hard to avoid them but eventually the sneaky buggers find you out and drop you to the floor, slug you for dollars, make you have to suffer the indignity of shopping or remind you that your age-growth may have out stripped your wisdom-growth. The main point is to keep calm and carry on.
Hypo Boy probably has had a slightly alarming number of hypos over his life time, but he’s not dead yet and he’s getting better at staying upright. Here he shares some of the funnier aspects of hypos.
Hypos affect your brain. What was once an instrument of sharpened surgical steel, able to slice through complex problems of logic may struggle with simple ideas. Such as the concept of a cupboard or door and the hypo fixes that live behind them.
Hypo Boy (HB): I need the stuff that’s in the thing…. You know the thing (mime show of cupboard door opening).
Better Half (BH): You what?
HB: I need the stuff that helps me. It’s in the packet in the place with the thing (more miming).
BH: Are you okay? Hypo Boy you’re really low, aren’t you?
HB: That’s what I’m telling you! I need the stuff that helps me. It’s in the place with the thing (more miming).
BH: Okay, you’re really low Hypo Boy. Now tell me where your snakes are.
HB: (exasperated) In the place with the thing. I can’t remember what it’s called but it goes like this (mime) and looks like that (points to door). But it’s smaller.
BH: Just wait here. I’ll look in the cupboard and see what’s there that might help.
HB: Cupboard! That’s it! The snakes are in the cupboard!
Even if the surgical steel is only moderately rusted it still might not quite hit the mark.
BH: (on waking to hear HB in the kitchen) What are you doing Hypo Boy?
HB: I’m low. I’m just getting something to eat.
BH: (turning the lights on in the kitchen) What are you doing?
HB: I’m low. I’m just getting something to eat, then I’ll come back to bed.
BH: Is roast beef good for hypos? (Hypo boy was busy carving and eating left over roast beef. It was delicious in his defence.)
Hypos can also impact those around you. While that may seem obvious, occasionally you do get an odd ball one. For a long time while dating a young women, Hypo Boy had fallen into a disturbing routine during moments of intimacy:
i) Amorous activities (details withheld to maintain the mystery and allure);
ii) Hypo;
iii) Amorous-activity-interruptus walk to 24-hour Coles for hypo fix; return home for fix and talk before….
iv) Return to complete point (i)
After a while, point (ii) began to interrupt point (i) too much. Hypo Boy made some dose adjustments without informing his partner, so that when they started on point (i), he managed to skip points (ii) and (iii). Hypo Boy was happy, and if he was a bit more Gallic would have lit up a cigarette.
Hypo Boy’s partner, rather than being happy about the new arrangement, started to question why.
‘Wasn’t I energetic enough? Do we need to do something different? Why didn’t I give you a hypo with my young, fit, flexible and nubile body?’ (Some dialogue may have been adjusted for writer’s own benefit.)
Hypo Boy learnt a number of lessons that night:
(a) Let people around you know when you’re making dosage adjustments. It’s helpful if they know there could be a reason for a change in routine.
(b) DO NOT laugh at a young woman who is questioning her performance. She might not let you play with her toys for a while.
Sound advice, Hypo Boy, sound advice. Sometimes you just gotta laugh. Do you have any amusing hypo stories to share?
I’ve been baking up a storm lately. It’s what I do when it’s cold outside. I love sweets but figure if I’m going to set my pump into overdrive, then whatever I am eating had better be bolus worthy!
I don’t ever use sweetener – it’s the real deal all the way for me! I’ve worked out that in most cases, the quantity of sugar listed in the ingredients list can be halved and the end product will still taste great. This is one of the fun things about baking and cooking in general. As you get more confident and learn how things work together, you can play with the ingredients to get the taste just as you like it!
If you feel like joining in, here are a few of my recent sweet treats and links to the recipes.
Does anything beat a homemade chocolate cake? This is one of the easiest, no-fail recipes you’ll find and it always results in a beautiful cake. Extra-special points for the fancy writing on top!
I always double the lemon quantity given in cake or slice recipes because I think it’s a crime if I don’t get a real hit of zesty-ness when I take that first bite! This recipe is brilliant and it’s no bake! The eight year-old kiddo made this pretty much on her own, so it’s a great one if you’re looking at getting kids cooking. I always feel like I’m getting my CWA on when I make this slice!
Bacon. Chocolate. Brownie. Were there ever three words that sounded better in a row? My baking hero, Nigella Lawson, came up with this recipe which includes a fudge-y brownie with salty, crispy bacon delights strewn throughout. The main problem with this recipe is stopping yourself from eating the candied bacon before you stir it through the brownie mix.
I have eaten more red velvet cupcakes than I care to admit. It’s my favourite cupcake flavour and I love tearing open the cake to reveal the seductive red colour. When we were in NYC over Winter, many afternoons were spent in Magnolia Bakery escaping the cold, enjoying a red velvet afternoon tea. Here’s their recipe. I’m warning you – they are addictive!
So, get baking! Then, put the kettle on and enjoy…Just don’t forget to bolus.
Diabetogenic 