A couple of weeks ago, a man I don’t know told me my food comments showed my privilege. He dissected one Facebook video, my off-the-cuff clip which, on that particular day, described my simple lunch made of organic greens, leftover roasted beets, canned mackerel, walnuts, feta and a homemade dressing. He chided that even organic food contains pesticides (often true) which are more carcinogenic than conventional pesticides (yet provided no evidence). I was annoyed, taken aback, felt misjudged. I wanted to be angry, but one of the gifts of social media is that I don’t have to re-engage. So, I didn’t.

Over the next few days, I contemplated the perspective of this human from who-knows-where.

It’s hard to talk about clean food, optimal nutrients, modern American farming practices or discussions about the updated Dietary Guidelines for Americans (DGAs) when what’s really on my mind is this messy life. Between washing stinky hockey gear and shuttling kids to the only kind of ICE combat I support, I catch glimpses on social media of people dying, suffering, protesting, rallying.

For years I’ve watched friends, colleagues and community members speak up about world events, advocate for human rights and publicly uphold their values. Their efforts have sent supplies to Gaza, amended national health policies and rallied people around local change. But I grew cautious about my voice, having been ostracized, judged and shamed for speaking my truth and questioning the norm. Weary, I disconnected from most political conversations and stopped reading the news. These decisions calmed my nervous system, allowing me to exert my energy toward a different kind of revolution, something softer and useful: inspiring people to cultivate food consciousness.

Last week, the US Department of Health and Human Services in collaboration with the Department of Agriculture released the updated food pyramid, a visual representation of the Dietary Guidelines for Americans for 2025-2030. It’s an inverted pyramid, seemingly resembling a slice of pizza or pie. Yet the image contains no ultra-processed, convenience or fast foods – only whole foods and a few minimally processed foods like olive oil and yogurt. The message at the top reads: Eat Real Food.

To me, this is a breath of fresh air! Finally, it makes sense from a functional nutrition – and human evolution – perspective. When I shared my hope for the future of our country’s health on a Facebook post showing this image with a description of the guidelines, I received judgmental, accusatory feedback.

On the last day of 2025, the manager at my bank said, “I have to ask the all-important question: What’s your New Year’s resolution?” I was caught off guard – I haven’t made a resolution in years. Resolutions have never worked for me, and I’ve spent ample effort understanding why. I try not to get caught up in the tradition of resolution and, instead, consider January a time to review, reflect, and revise. By the Chinese New Year, I’m working on a plan with resources to help me execute it.

January seems like the most inopportune time to start something new! To make a declaration in the aftermath of the holiday spirit high is setting ourselves up for failure. Often, in our revelry, we decide to change of fix about our lives, yet by a few weeks into the month we have no clear path forward. Our willpower has faded. We lack discipline. We disappoint ourselves. 

I’m one of those people who overcommits to certain things and half-ass commits to others. The patterns are overcommitment to working and to other people’s needs/wants and finding excuses for erratic behaviors that could (if committed) improve myself in personal development, athletic goals, financial planning, career goals, and the like. I have become very committed to my health and wellbeing, a feat that has taken years, if not decades, by forming new habits that help me feel good. It’s time again to reevaluate and recommit.

Last week, while writing about reducing sugar intake, simultaneously I was preparing for the annual cookie party I host with my dear friend, a dietitian and fellow kitchen extraordinaire. I love cookies, sure, yet eating cookies is not why I love the cookie party. Besides an excuse to gather and celebrate the season with friends, it’s an opportunity to remain committed to one my favorite holiday traditions: making buckeyes. Buckeyes aren’t really cookies, as they’re not baked, but making them for the party has become a favorite holiday tradition.

Do you know that the average American eats 100 pounds of sugar each year? (1). When we wonder why our metabolism is off, blood sugar is whacky, we can’t lose weight and we’re suffering from an obesity epidemic, could sugar be the culprit? Just like in last week’s article with inspiration for drinking less alcohol (more sugars!), I cannot emphasize enough the importance of simply eating less sugar. Considering sugar, like alcohol, is addictive, we need a plan – not just willpower – to overcome infinite, pervasive longings for sweets.

It’s not surprising that alcohol consumption increased dramatically in 2020 and the next few years thanks, in part, to the global pandemic (1). Working from home, stress coupled with fear, the convenience of having alcohol nearby (all the time) were just some of the factors contributing to more drinking (2). For people over 40 suffering from mood disorders, alcohol consumption was even more pronounced (2). As the mental health crisis rose to mainstream conversation, views about alcohol and behaviors began shifting.  

While I love Thanksgiving week and its invitation to slow down, what follows for me is a period of shame, fear and frustration: Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, Cyber Monday. These days become dismal with lack, comparison and desire. My financial status and related compromises tell the tale of a single mama running a small business while struggling to make ends meet, give her children more, and live fully when her pocketbook is sparse.  

Even while on vacay, I’m a working single mom. Whether it’s a big travel day or a rest day, I plan all logistics – lodging, directions, trains, tickets, rental cars, gas, communication, activities, excursions, laundry, tours, plus meetings with chefs, farmers, proprietors. I check emails, meet virtually with clients, write articles, plan programs, create social media posts.  

I also plan all the meals, hydration and supplements for pleasure, focus, sleep, motion sickness and “what if” scenarios because: 1.) nutrients matter; 2.) food is harder to procure while traveling; 3.) good nourishment can make the difference between enjoying a cultural experience or watching it crumble.

I’m writing from the train between Milano and Firenze in Italy. It’s the second summer I brought my two kids here, exploring for purposes beyond simply traveling, exposure to new cultures or instilling in a sense of self-sufficiency, curiosity and vigilance. We are here for more than reuniting with my ancestry, though that’s certainly one reason I’m drawn to Italy.

And the food – simply, it makes traveling easier knowing I can be well nourished. Yet not all food in Italy is good for us, as we may naïvely believe.

My son became a teenager this week! In addition to considering his life experiences and how I love being his mama, I reflect on a baker’s dozen years of feeding him (and his sister) healthy food to nourish his rapid growth. I’ve prepared thousands of intentional meals made primarily with whole foods, typically eaten at home and, sometimes, at co-ops, health food stores and from-scratch cafes. I recall dozens eye rolls for saying “no” to Standard American Food, criticisms for fixed food values, and exclusions from events due to my choices. I’ve also receive ample “thank you”s. 

This is the 100th pieces I’ve written for my column, “A Nutrition Mission” in the Idaho Mountain Express, our local newspaper. I pondered a poem: “100 lessons from 100 nutrition articles.” However, as our government threatens our public lands, and neighbors lose jobs that protect and educate about sacred natural spaces, what seems relevant is recalling Mother Earth’s wisdom. Stinging nettles, for example, are indicative of spring – potent, with a protective sting to awaken us!  

It was a regular Wednesday evening and, bored with our typical dinner rotation, I planned something different. Falafel! Simple, healthy, and with toppings I knew my kids would eat (tomatoes, olives, cucumbers, feta, tzatziki, pita bread). I recalled that they enjoyed falafel the previous time I’d prepared it but (oy!) I was mistaken! They balked at the baked-then-lightly fried chickpea and herb patties and made a mess of deconstructing dinner. Dang! Mom failed. Or did I?

I received two requests for protocols in this month’s column: immune support and hormone balancing. Big topics! Both complicated. Yet, nutritionally, both boil down to these basic concepts: eat a wide range of colorful, whole, uncontaminated foods, manage stress well, and spend ample time outside in nature. Keep reading to learn more.

Often, it feels mentally restrictive to “eliminate” certain foods or beverages, even with intention to feel better. Many people express hesitation to work together because they aren’t ready to “give up” coffee, alcohol, gluten, sugar. In truth, I don’t require anyone to restrict anything against their will (though we discuss the attachment). Readiness is key. When we’re ready to feel better, we’re ready to try letting go of what may not be serving us.

The concept of “the never-ending meal” doesn’t mean eat endlessly, particularly not during the holidays – please consume mindfully. It means prepare every meal to feed into the next. Find your meal planning flow. The basic idea: each time you prepare food, make extra of something and set aside one or more ingredients for subsequent meals. It’s simple, versatile, and uses leftovers creatively to avoid waste and overwhelm.

I’m just home from a rainy week in Spain where I created authentic Andalusian meals using out of seasonal, fresh foods from the region for a women’s retreat. The experience was nourishing and memorable though exhausting from the effort of procuring local food in a foreign country using my less-than-optimal language skills. I chopped onions, garlic, peppers and tomatoes for days while standing on a marble kitchen floor; over-ate and under-slept; and traveled home on three airplanes across two countries and an ocean over the course of 32 hours.

I returned to another packed schedule: elections, clients, planning an annual women’s yoga retreat, writing this column, and most of all some time and meals with my kids. Whew!  

Eating more plants doesn’t mean you have to be a vegetarian or vegan. Simply, incorporate more roots, fruits, veggies, grains, nuts, seeds, seaweed, herbs, spices, and fungi (technically not a plant) into every meal. Truly, why do we still not understand that plants are SO good for us? The Average American eats 1 fruit and 1-2 veggies per day, with only 10-12% of Americans meeting the 5+ per day recommendation. As many of us struggle with health challenges and making ends meet in this economy, increasing plant nutrients affordably into our meals is a vital – and viable – goal.