“Jamie, I thought of you—our garden is packed full of lettuce. Do you need any?”

This text message came through on Friday while I was driving home from dropping off my son at his first job. His lunchbox was packed with homemade food to support him through a long, hot day. I was headed home to my daughter, who was eating the sourdough pancakes I’d just made, to pack up her gear and lunch for an excursion up north.

Besides finishing my housing article, sending off a podcast for editing, and replying to client emails, I added three more things to my to-do list: make dressing, harvest lettuce, buy fish.

Finally, I knew what I’d make for dinner at the cabin.

My son walked into the kitchen while I was preparing dinner, removed his ear bud to say hello and, upon hearing the guest on a podcast I was streaming say the word “organic,” he rolled his eyes, replaced the ear bud and left the room. “I’m doing research!” I shouted after him, but I knew he wasn’t listening. He was tired of hearing about food, while I am ever curious. I will never know it all—nor do I want to. With all my education, years of reviewing research, conducting interviews, writing a food column, a decade of clinical practice and a lifetime of recipe experimentation, still my perspective feels limited.

“I've had so much shame around food and nutrition.” A woman I’ve known for thirty years asked for my help feeling comfortable and strong in her body—her main health goal. Her other dream: to find peace with her meals.

Specifically, she wanted help optimizing her diet to help with mental focus, strength and agility while also hoping to lose weight and reduce amplified symptoms of perimenopause. She was also concerned about recently elevated lipid, blood sugar and blood pressure labs. She thought she was eating “all the right foods” (most of the time), yet was feeling excessively guilty and shameful for indulging—ever. She no longer enjoyed lunch out with friends, a glass or two of wine at book club, any occasion with celebratory food. She was being mindful, yet everything felt wrong.

It’s the last week of school for most of us in the Wood River Valley. It’s also a stressful time for us parents, endeavoring to be present to the milestones, anticipating summer with kids home and simultaneously navigating work and other commitments. In my own world, we moved again this week, adding another thick layer of complications and anxiety to an already full schedule. It’s a tempting time to forego good food for convenience; yet being lax on well-balanced, nutrient-dense meals can easily set us up for habits that translate into three months of ultra-processed, easily accessible pre-packaged foods for summer travel, camping and kids’ irregular activities.

Adults, let’s ensure we have simple meals to nourish our adrenals and moderate our stress response.

Fourteen years ago, I gave birth to my first child. At the time, I was vegan and for years been preparing most meals at home, paying close attention to nutrients, even before I understood them. I was also on a budget, having been “let go” for being pregnant, I was focused on graduate school prerequisites while pursing my second yoga teacher training. I never thought conceptually about meal planning. Simply, I cooked when I was hungry, went to the store when I needed ingredients and ate out sometimes with my then-husband and friends.

When my baby was ready for solid foods and my own nutrient needs had changed, I needed a plan, one that included meals for a rapidly growing baby and a post-partem mama with foods that were safe and nourishing for both of us. I was busy, tired and overwhelmed, and the internet offered little guidance.

Last week one of my busy mom clients, a fellow business owner working through her rather complicated relationship with food, told me about an “aha” food moment: while preparing her simple, well-balanced, gut-healing breakfast (plus leftovers for subsequent days), she noticed her frustration, followed by the sentiment, “This is a waste of my time.” Then, remembering our conversation about food as nourishment—not as a chore—she felt her body soften, followed by the transformative notion, “Actually, this is self-care.”

Admittedly, one of the reasons I wanted my children to attend The Sage School is because of their year-long focus on the American food system in the upper grades. It may seem a selfish reason, considering I’m a nutritionist, foodie and local food system advocate, yet I believe it’s one of the most important areas of study, addressing political, environmental, nutritional, cultural, social and economic issues locally and globally. Plus, it’s not a subject taught in traditional public schools, so who’s going to save the world if no one studies this vast and complicated topic and, subsequently, impart their enthusiasm for change unto the greater world?

With so much activity at the federal level trying to protect pesticide companies and opposition from MAHA and the public to protect people from pesticides, it’s an exciting time to talk about contaminants in our food. Of course, I talk about this every day and have received countless eyerolls over the years from friends and family for my choices to buy organic food or, heaven forbid, decline conventional food at a potluck. My former in-laws actually banned me from saying the “O” word (“organic”—not orgasm) in their home. They, and incalculable others, believe USDA organic labeling is a joke played on gullible foodies and environmentalists like me to garnish my hard-earned money—and that conventional food is totally fine.

Are we still really debating whether conventional American food is safe to eat?

As I write this on Monday, April 27, 2026, the Supreme Court is considering a case that could quietly reshape the future of our food system: Monsanto (Bayer) v. Durnell. At its core, the case asks a deceptively simple question: Can a state require warning labels on pesticides if those warnings differ from federal guidance?

The Environmental Protection Agency (EPA), which regulates pesticide labeling in the U.S., does not classify glyphosate—the most widely used herbicide in the world—as a carcinogen (1, 2). Based on that position, Bayer argues it should not have been required to pay $1.25 million to the plaintiff, Durnell, who developed non-Hodgkin lymphoma and claimed he was not adequately warned under Missouri law (3).

Durnell’s argument is equally straightforward: he deserved to know the potential risks.

In celebration of my favorite day of the year, April 20 (4/20) I decided to write about Cannabis, plant-medicines and psychedelics (and save the exciting topic of glyphosate for next week). After sharing this inspiration, I surprised by two things: 1.) Not everyone knows the significance of 420. (In cannabis culture, “420” is slang for smoking pot – aka, marijuana, for those who don’t know – paying homage to the code word the time of day when five California high school buddies met after school to smoke weed.) (1). 2.) On April 18, our president signed an executive order to accelerate medical research on psychedelic substances (2). Impeccable timing! 

At the core of my work is food consciousness and healing, so it makes sense to relate food and wellbeing to consciousness medicine.

As I wrote last week’s article about dietary fats and why we need them, my moral compass was nagging me about something I did not address: dietary fats as a hidden source of toxicants. Whenever I guide about food and nutrition, my conscience urges me to say, “Ensure it’s uncontaminated…” – despite knowing everything is contaminated. Whether discussing fish, yogurt, tofu, wheat or spinach, I recommend, “Buy the best quality you can afford…” – despite knowing “quality” is subjective.

Taking accountability for diet and lifestyle is vital, so it’s important to understand the role of environmental contaminants in our food system, how they wreak havoc in our bodies and, especially, their detrimental role on our endocrine system.

Did y’all eat ample colored, hard-boiled eggs over Easter weekend? Perhaps an omelet, frittata, quiche or, as in my home, soft-boiled eggs? I’m a big fan of eggs – pasture raised, ideally. I’ve taught classes on eggs and, as you may imagine, I’m often asked for my “opinion” on eggs. Concerned less about humane conditions or quality, questions are fats. Are they “good” to eat? What about cholesterol? Will they make me fat?

I’m particular about quality food and I know there is good food in a lot of places. However, it's increasingly disappointing that road trip food is so terrible, reflecting the fact that typical American food is terrible. Considering road-trips are a common way of traveling the US, I cannot fathom why every gas station offers the same, crappy food-like substances and sugary beverages: chips, candy, hot dogs, energy drinks. Cheap. Ultra-processed. Wrapped in plastic. Occasionally, a banana or apple sits near the cash register. What’s worse are fast food options inside gas stations or next door – the food making Americans sick.

It was Sunday morning and I was up before 6:00 to prepare breakfast for my son before his last hockey camp practice. My mind pulsed with organizational details – get myself caffeinated, the kids fed, our things packed up and be on the road on time. My body reverberated after two days of city life, concrete and chaos – driving back and forth to the hockey rink a whopping 8 times while in Boise, visiting box stores and grocery stores, navigating traffic and timetables. My emotions drained after recurring arguments with my kids, begging me to take them to In-N-Out Burger, knowing I would not. We had to escape the temptations of the city.

When I entered graduate school, I had a vision of helping people heal using natural, whole foods. Over the past decade while practicing nutrition, I’ve learned that sometimes supplements are necessary, yet we cannot overlook the benefits of certain healing foods. Michael Pollen attempted to simplify human consumption for wellbeing: “Eat food, not too much, mostly plants.” I agree, and would clarify further from a nutritionist, locavore and Earth-mama perspective: “Eat whole, uncontaminated foods raised close to home – and ferments.”

The Sage School’s 10th and 11th grade students, known as the “Raven Band”, are studying American Food Systems. The year-long project will culminate with a community feast organized and designed by the students based on what they’ve learned from conventional and small farming. They are just beginning to build their menu, offering local foods available in spring from farms they visited last fall – plus the sauerkraut we made in class on Monday. 

To begin, I asked the students what they believe is working well within America’s food system. There was a lull.

Last week, a few girlfriends and I packed up our skis and poles, snowshoes and backpacks, suits and towels, food and beverages, oracle cards and a flowery tablecloth and drove north. A few miles from civilization, we passed through a vortex, where rain turned to snow, the narrow valley stretched into a wider expanse and cell service ceased. We placed our phones in the side doors of the car, dialed into some sweet folk music, and settled into our breath, bodies and the view of freshly dusted Boulder White Cloud mountains. Our overnighter to celebrate my birthday was more than just a mini getaway – we needed to disconnect.

I’ve always been told I have “fiery” energy – and not always in a positive light. I’ve been riddled and shamed for my passionate expressions and also thanked for wearing my heart on my sleeve. Last week we said goodbye to the Chinese Year of the Wood Snake and hello to the Year of the Fire Horse. What does that mean? Why should we care? And how does that relate to wellbeing? In short, everything is regulated by the cosmos – all that exists in the orderly universe, from space and time, matter and energy and, therefore, the nature of all things. It’s wise to pay attention and, when we do, we have one more tool for making informed choices.

Last Wednesday evening I walked solo into the Basque Cultural Center in Boise to meet people like me, who support and advocate for small farms, artisan foods and beverage makers and independent producers in Idaho’s food system. Donning my second-hand outfit from various Idaho festivals – snakeskin cowboy boots, a patchwork dress and a cropped jean jacket – I wondered who I’d encounter and whether I’d fit in. In some ways, I did – I’m an Idahoan with reverence for our state’s “heritage, history, and tradition(s),” in alignment with FARE’s mission. In other ways, I was a real food idealist.

In my clinical practice and life experiences, I’ve found one thing to be true: the Standard American Diet (SAD) is a destructive industry of excess, convenience and apathy. It’s at the root of chronic diseases, and our medical professionals work hard to diagnose and prescribe medications for diseases that are preventable with a different diet – a more natural diet. If you’re thinking we need a different lifestyle, too, you’re right. Consuming foods we were designed to eat will, inevitably, change a person’s lifestyle.

What is the Standard American Diet (SAD), anyway? Simply look around at food options that are “standard” across our country, advertising our culture of distractions, accessibility, affordability and prioritizing business over wellbeing.