The other night, shortly after I'd sent in “Unnatural Natural Flavours” to the newspaper, my son Ben brought up the subject. So I gave him the spiel of all I had just learned, namely, that chemical components are isolated from real foodstuffs and then mixed to come up with a taste that human senses interpret as appetizing. I gave the example of ethyl butyrate being used to flavour pasteurized orange juice, and that this chemical is extracted from the peel of oranges.
Ben said, “Well, then, if the flavour comes from real oranges ...” and I immediately saw that many people would skip to the same easy justification in their minds when confronted with artful promotional semantics.
So here is an analogy that I hope will put it into perspective. Let’s say we have a piece of writing by Shakespeare. It’s an original creation put together by an undisputed master. (An orange, also, is an original creation put together by a Master, however sometimes disputed.) Someone comes along and breaks that piece of poetry into a list of words, some of which he then breaks down further into a stockpile of letters. Then he uses those words and letters to put together some writing of his own. He may technically be a good writer, but what he writes will definitely not be Shakespeare. And supposing he chooses to write pornography, for instance, something vile, something unhealthy. And still he tries to insist that this is original Shakespeare, because all the raw components he used came directly from a creation of the bard himself.
But if you agree that what he has written must indeed be Shakespeare, then you might also say that the natural flavour added to fruit juice is natural.
In digging a little further on this subject, I stumbled upon a lot more disturbing stuff about orange juice, and juice in general. From http://www.cbc.ca/news/canada/story/2010/09/08/f-whats-in-it-orange-juice.html comes the following information. “Once the juice is pressed from the fruit, it’s pasteurized.... Juice for concentrate is then heated in an evaporator that boils off much of its water but also burns away bitter oils from the orange peels, oils that can contain pesticides and degrade the juice’s taste. So-called ‘fresh’ juice, however, has to have those oils removed mechanically. It also has much of its oxygen stripped in a process called de-aeration. This is to prevent spoiling because the juice will spend up to a year in million-gallon vats before it’s packaged, sold and consumed.”
Does it say “filtered water” in the ingredients? “Under Canada’s Food and Drugs Act this can mean ... also water that contains fluoride or chlorine.”
Even if the product claims to contain only pure juice, “manufacturers can also add a variety of things ... including ... various kinds of sugar ... [and] preservative.” The article’s bottom line was to suggest that we simply buy whole oranges instead of juice.
But back to flavour fraud per se, did you ever hear about the scandal a couple of years ago when PepsiCo was accused of using aborted fetal matter in the flavouring process of their iconic soda? It caused several right-wing and pro-life groups in the US to boycott all Pepsi products.
It took some careful reading to figure out just what was hysteria and what was fact, but what I eventually found was that no such grisly ingredient was in the beverage itself. Stranger than fiction though, researchers had discovered that the kidney cells from a fetus will react to different flavours. They’ve learned to read the responses and can use them to predict what flavourings will achieve the “wow” factor with their consumers. These kidney cells all originated from one little fetus back in the ’70s, and new generations of these cells continue to be cultured in a lab.
The website of internationally recognized biotech company Senomyx (one of whose clients was PepsiCo) puts it like this: “Using isolated human taste receptors, we created proprietary taste receptor-based assay systems that provide a biochemical or electronic readout when a flavor ingredient interacts with the receptor.” They fail to tell the public where they get the cells to produce those receptors. Their process gives insight into how a flavourist figures out just what chemical combinations will “work” with their customers.
Last spring the boycott was lifted when PepsiCo changed their policy and declared that they would no longer “conduct or fund research that utilizes any human tissue or cell lines derived from embryos or fetuses.”
One of the boycott organizers, after expressing his appreciation for the new policy, added a personal comment: “I’m glad I can begin buying Tropicana Orange Juice, that was always my favorite!”
He probably enjoys the natural flavour.
Saturday, December 15, 2012
44. Unnatural Natural Flavours
Living a week or two at a time out in Vernon, BC, so that my husband can enjoy a home-cooked meal when he comes home from his jobsite in the evening, I have taken up intermittent residence in a motel kitchenette. In contrast to our country home in Alberta, where I am 25 kilometres from the nearest grocery store, here I am less than 200 metres from Save-On Foods. Instead of shopping once in two weeks, I take a jaunt across the main drag once or twice a day. If I find I’ve forgotten something, I can literally be there and back and have my boots untied and pulled off, all in five minutes.
I was over there the other day looking for some good fruit juice. “Good” fruit juice, in my books, means that (besides, of course, having no added sugar) it has no “natural flavour.” For years, I was like most of the reasonably health-conscious populace: I would see that ingredient on any product and say, “Cool—it’s natural.” And I would buy it.
Then something I read one day made me suspicious, and I phoned the 1-800 number at SunRype to ask some questions about exactly what these natural flavours comprise. I came away unsure exactly what it all meant. The story was that, because fruits vary in flavour from crop to crop and because their customers “expect a uniform flavour experience,” they might add a little of this or that kind of different fruit juice to tweak the flavour. Well, I’m sure that’s true with some juices, because I have seen ingredient lists that, after the main juice or juices, will say, “May also contain juice of (this, that, or the other).
But I had heard that because MSG is derived from natural sources (seaweed), it qualifies as a “natural” flavour. When I put this question to the Sunrype girl, she said, “Everybody asks that. No, there’s no MSG in our juices.” She asked me for my address, saying that she would be sending me some coupons for their juices to thank me for my interest in their products. However, I had already decided that I wouldn’t be buying that brand anymore until I could learn something more conclusive. Since then, I have simply stayed away from any juices that mention natural flavour, but they are getting harder and harder to find.
Back in Vernon at the Save-On Foods, there I am cruising down this whole long aisle of juices, and I can’t find a single one without this dubious enhancement—until I come to the brand I usually buy now: Oasis. Even with this company though, you must check the ingredient list, because only four or five of their varieties (as far as I’ve seen) are pure in this sense. So I chose a carton of “Exotic Mango” and came back to our little motel room to peruse awhile on Google.
In a nutshell, there are two kinds of food flavourings: natural and artificial, and they are both produced by the same elite chemical companies. Artificial flavours are combinations of chemicals, mixed randomly until a “flavourist” finds a promising taste, a mix that gives the desired “sensory impression.” These chemicals are procured by “fractional distillation and additional chemical manipulation of naturally sourced chemicals, crude oil, or coal tar.”
What a turn-off for any thinking consumer! The word artificial is bad enough; look a little closer and you’d never want to buy it. And so enters the “natural flavour” industry. Drawing from natural, edible substances (according to US regulations, “from a spice, fruit, … vegetable, … yeast, herb, bark, bud, root, leaf …, meat, seafood, poultry, eggs, dairy products”), chemical components are isolated by “physical, microbiological or enzymatic processes” and then once again the flavourist goes to work mixing his chemical concoctions. The longer process costs the companies a little more, but the resultant flavours can be called natural because the original source of their ingredients is a natural product. (Quotes from Wikipedia)
The pasteurizing and storing of juices destroys their flavour. “Juice companies therefore hire flavor and fragrance companies, the same ones that formulate perfumes for Dior and Calvin Klein, to engineer flavor packs to add back to the juice to make it taste fresh. ... Those in the industry will tell you that the flavor packs ... resemble nothing found in nature. The packs added to juice earmarked for the North American market tend to contain high amounts of ethyl butyrate, a chemical in the fragrance of fresh squeezed orange juice that, juice companies have discovered, Americans favor” (ttp://consumerist.com/2011/07/oj-flavor-packs.html). Yet the FDA has no problem with this fraud because the chemical components were originally extracted from an orange.
I was over there the other day looking for some good fruit juice. “Good” fruit juice, in my books, means that (besides, of course, having no added sugar) it has no “natural flavour.” For years, I was like most of the reasonably health-conscious populace: I would see that ingredient on any product and say, “Cool—it’s natural.” And I would buy it.
Then something I read one day made me suspicious, and I phoned the 1-800 number at SunRype to ask some questions about exactly what these natural flavours comprise. I came away unsure exactly what it all meant. The story was that, because fruits vary in flavour from crop to crop and because their customers “expect a uniform flavour experience,” they might add a little of this or that kind of different fruit juice to tweak the flavour. Well, I’m sure that’s true with some juices, because I have seen ingredient lists that, after the main juice or juices, will say, “May also contain juice of (this, that, or the other).
But I had heard that because MSG is derived from natural sources (seaweed), it qualifies as a “natural” flavour. When I put this question to the Sunrype girl, she said, “Everybody asks that. No, there’s no MSG in our juices.” She asked me for my address, saying that she would be sending me some coupons for their juices to thank me for my interest in their products. However, I had already decided that I wouldn’t be buying that brand anymore until I could learn something more conclusive. Since then, I have simply stayed away from any juices that mention natural flavour, but they are getting harder and harder to find.
Back in Vernon at the Save-On Foods, there I am cruising down this whole long aisle of juices, and I can’t find a single one without this dubious enhancement—until I come to the brand I usually buy now: Oasis. Even with this company though, you must check the ingredient list, because only four or five of their varieties (as far as I’ve seen) are pure in this sense. So I chose a carton of “Exotic Mango” and came back to our little motel room to peruse awhile on Google.
In a nutshell, there are two kinds of food flavourings: natural and artificial, and they are both produced by the same elite chemical companies. Artificial flavours are combinations of chemicals, mixed randomly until a “flavourist” finds a promising taste, a mix that gives the desired “sensory impression.” These chemicals are procured by “fractional distillation and additional chemical manipulation of naturally sourced chemicals, crude oil, or coal tar.”
What a turn-off for any thinking consumer! The word artificial is bad enough; look a little closer and you’d never want to buy it. And so enters the “natural flavour” industry. Drawing from natural, edible substances (according to US regulations, “from a spice, fruit, … vegetable, … yeast, herb, bark, bud, root, leaf …, meat, seafood, poultry, eggs, dairy products”), chemical components are isolated by “physical, microbiological or enzymatic processes” and then once again the flavourist goes to work mixing his chemical concoctions. The longer process costs the companies a little more, but the resultant flavours can be called natural because the original source of their ingredients is a natural product. (Quotes from Wikipedia)
The pasteurizing and storing of juices destroys their flavour. “Juice companies therefore hire flavor and fragrance companies, the same ones that formulate perfumes for Dior and Calvin Klein, to engineer flavor packs to add back to the juice to make it taste fresh. ... Those in the industry will tell you that the flavor packs ... resemble nothing found in nature. The packs added to juice earmarked for the North American market tend to contain high amounts of ethyl butyrate, a chemical in the fragrance of fresh squeezed orange juice that, juice companies have discovered, Americans favor” (ttp://consumerist.com/2011/07/oj-flavor-packs.html). Yet the FDA has no problem with this fraud because the chemical components were originally extracted from an orange.
Wednesday, December 12, 2012
43. The Last Post
The last time I sent out an email announcing a new blog post, I included a little slice-of-life kind of story that I called "The Last Post." So many people wrote to comment on it that I thought I should put it in the blog where others could enjoy it too, instead of deleting it from my "Sent" file and exiling it into outer cyber darkness forever.
But as I considered adding it to the blog, I had to take into account that this site is now visited by guests from over 60 countries, most of whom would have no idea of what I was talking about. So here is a little glossary up front:
Remembrance Day: On the 11th of November every year, countries in the Commonwealth observe the time when hostilities in World War I officially ended in 1919: at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. We honour members of the armed forces who have died in the line of duty, then, and since then.
The Last Post: This is a melody usually played as a trumpet solo right at 11:00 a.m. A minute of silence follows, and is then broken by the trumpet playing Reveille (translated "wake up"). Wikipedia says, "The two tunes symbolize sunset and sunrise respectively, and therefore, death and resurrection."
The Poppy: Every year at the beginning of November, artificial poppies are made available to wear as a sign of respect and appreciation for our vets. In Canada, monies donated for these little emblems amount to $16.5 million annually. All poppy money collected by a Legion branch stays within that local community and pays for medical equipment, home services, and long-term care facilities for ex-service people in need of financial assistance.
The poppy became a symbol of remembrance through a poem by John McCrae, a Canadian poet, physician, author, artist and soldier. The poem, In Flanders Fields, was inspired through the loss of a dear friend in battle. McCrae himself, in charge of a field hospital, succumbed to pneumonia in 1918 at the age of 45.
When I was in grade school, I and my fellows students were required to memorize the poem. It's amazing how easily it still springs from the memory:
With this rather lengthy intro, here is the story I sent out with my last email:
Greg and I jump out of bed at 5:45 in our motel room. He is hustling to meet his crew for breakfast; I need to fix the first meal of my day and then go back to bed for a couple of hours. The room is a little chilly, so I slip on my cosy, short grey robe. My youngest helped me pick it out at La Senza. It’s probably a couple of decades too young for me with its double row of sassy ruffles around the bottom, but I like it.
Below the ruffle hangs the hot pink print of my nightie. My legs are still bare, so I rummage in Greg’s dresser for his pyjama pants, a subtle blue-and-grey plaid flannelette. I pull them on and bunch the ample waistline up in the front, securing it with a ponytail elastic. Socks, black, to keep my feet from getting cold.
I’m still not warm enough, so I add my go-everywhere black fleece vest with the fake leather shoulders and collar. The plunging neck of the robe is letting in the draft, so I grab the scarf I was wearing yesterday, a bold block plaid of black, rust, and grey, and I sling it around my neck. Shortly thereafter I catch a reflection of myself in the full-length mirror. I’m quite a sight.
“Hey,” I say to Greg, “how do you like my look this morning?”
He pauses in his hurried morning routine and gazes at me for several long seconds. “Stunning,” he says.
Stunning. I guess that would explain the stunned look on his face.
“Halloween is over,” he adds.
“I know,” I tell him, “and so is Remembrance Day, but I still have my poppy.” I lift the collar of my vest to show him the brilliant splash of red.
I got the poppy at the Edmonton Airport just before catching the plane to Vernon. It was Armistice Day and somehow I had thus far missed picking up one of the little fake flowers with the deeply emotional symbolism. I inquired of a group, each of whom was wearing a poppy, and they directed me to where they’d got theirs. Soon I had mine pinned to my vest.
As I checked through security, I heard bagpipes coming from somewhere. I thought it was live at first, and my flesh rose in goose-bumps and tears started in my eyes, as always happens to me at this time of remembrance. I soon realized that the sound was coming from a large flat screen TV in a sports bar/restaurant.
I was sitting at my gate when I heard an airline personnel tell a passenger that there had been a gate change for the flight. I stood and gathered up my belongings to move along when suddenly the strains of the Last Post floated through the airport. I checked my watch. Eleven o’clock. I closed my eyes and bowed my head and waited while the trumpet sounded its mournful solo.
Give them a moment of remembrance; they gave us their lives.
But as I listened, I was aware of other sounds. A lot of other sounds. People chatting on cell phones, announcements over the PA, luggage wheels rolling on the hard floor. There didn’t seem to be another soul nearby who had paused for or even noticed the solemn salute. I was already sobered by the sacred moment; now I was saddened as well by the lack of attention it received. Perhaps most people now think that the Last Post only refers to the most recent blog entry.
Which brings me to mine.
It’s called Xcellent Xylitol, and it takes a look at this wonderful natural sweetener that I’ve just recently learned about. Check it out below.
But as I considered adding it to the blog, I had to take into account that this site is now visited by guests from over 60 countries, most of whom would have no idea of what I was talking about. So here is a little glossary up front:
Remembrance Day: On the 11th of November every year, countries in the Commonwealth observe the time when hostilities in World War I officially ended in 1919: at the 11th hour of the 11th day of the 11th month. We honour members of the armed forces who have died in the line of duty, then, and since then.
The Last Post: This is a melody usually played as a trumpet solo right at 11:00 a.m. A minute of silence follows, and is then broken by the trumpet playing Reveille (translated "wake up"). Wikipedia says, "The two tunes symbolize sunset and sunrise respectively, and therefore, death and resurrection."
The Poppy: Every year at the beginning of November, artificial poppies are made available to wear as a sign of respect and appreciation for our vets. In Canada, monies donated for these little emblems amount to $16.5 million annually. All poppy money collected by a Legion branch stays within that local community and pays for medical equipment, home services, and long-term care facilities for ex-service people in need of financial assistance.
The poppy became a symbol of remembrance through a poem by John McCrae, a Canadian poet, physician, author, artist and soldier. The poem, In Flanders Fields, was inspired through the loss of a dear friend in battle. McCrae himself, in charge of a field hospital, succumbed to pneumonia in 1918 at the age of 45.
When I was in grade school, I and my fellows students were required to memorize the poem. It's amazing how easily it still springs from the memory:
In Flanders Fields the poppies blow
Between the crosses row on row
That mark our place; and in the sky
The larks, still bravely singing, fly
Scare heard amid the guns below.
We are the dead. Short days ago
We lived, felt dawn, saw sunset glow,
Loved and were loved, and now we lie
In Flanders Fields.
Take up our quarrel with the foe:
To you from failing hands we throw
The torch; be yours to hold it high
If ye break faith with us who die
We shall not sleep, though poppies grow
In Flanders Fields.
With this rather lengthy intro, here is the story I sent out with my last email:
The Last Post
Greg and I jump out of bed at 5:45 in our motel room. He is hustling to meet his crew for breakfast; I need to fix the first meal of my day and then go back to bed for a couple of hours. The room is a little chilly, so I slip on my cosy, short grey robe. My youngest helped me pick it out at La Senza. It’s probably a couple of decades too young for me with its double row of sassy ruffles around the bottom, but I like it.
Below the ruffle hangs the hot pink print of my nightie. My legs are still bare, so I rummage in Greg’s dresser for his pyjama pants, a subtle blue-and-grey plaid flannelette. I pull them on and bunch the ample waistline up in the front, securing it with a ponytail elastic. Socks, black, to keep my feet from getting cold.
I’m still not warm enough, so I add my go-everywhere black fleece vest with the fake leather shoulders and collar. The plunging neck of the robe is letting in the draft, so I grab the scarf I was wearing yesterday, a bold block plaid of black, rust, and grey, and I sling it around my neck. Shortly thereafter I catch a reflection of myself in the full-length mirror. I’m quite a sight.
“Hey,” I say to Greg, “how do you like my look this morning?”
He pauses in his hurried morning routine and gazes at me for several long seconds. “Stunning,” he says.
Stunning. I guess that would explain the stunned look on his face.
“Halloween is over,” he adds.
“I know,” I tell him, “and so is Remembrance Day, but I still have my poppy.” I lift the collar of my vest to show him the brilliant splash of red.
I got the poppy at the Edmonton Airport just before catching the plane to Vernon. It was Armistice Day and somehow I had thus far missed picking up one of the little fake flowers with the deeply emotional symbolism. I inquired of a group, each of whom was wearing a poppy, and they directed me to where they’d got theirs. Soon I had mine pinned to my vest.
As I checked through security, I heard bagpipes coming from somewhere. I thought it was live at first, and my flesh rose in goose-bumps and tears started in my eyes, as always happens to me at this time of remembrance. I soon realized that the sound was coming from a large flat screen TV in a sports bar/restaurant.
I was sitting at my gate when I heard an airline personnel tell a passenger that there had been a gate change for the flight. I stood and gathered up my belongings to move along when suddenly the strains of the Last Post floated through the airport. I checked my watch. Eleven o’clock. I closed my eyes and bowed my head and waited while the trumpet sounded its mournful solo.
Give them a moment of remembrance; they gave us their lives.
But as I listened, I was aware of other sounds. A lot of other sounds. People chatting on cell phones, announcements over the PA, luggage wheels rolling on the hard floor. There didn’t seem to be another soul nearby who had paused for or even noticed the solemn salute. I was already sobered by the sacred moment; now I was saddened as well by the lack of attention it received. Perhaps most people now think that the Last Post only refers to the most recent blog entry.
Which brings me to mine.
It’s called Xcellent Xylitol, and it takes a look at this wonderful natural sweetener that I’ve just recently learned about. Check it out below.
Wednesday, November 28, 2012
42. Xcellent Xylitol
A little while back, I wrote an article (Blog #34) about the devastating effects of eating a dessert and how I was several weeks getting over it. Shortly after that, I happened to read about a new kind of sweetener, coconut palm sugar, made from the nectar of the tree flowers.
Further reading revealed that this kind of sugar, named xylitol, was discovered at about the same time by both French and German chemists, late in the 1800s, and became popular throughout Europe as a safe sweetener for diabetics. During World War II when sugar was in short supply, xylitol became a popular substitute.
What we now know about this sugar is that it has a very low glycemic index (GI). If you haven’t heard of GI before, Wikipedia explains it as “a measure of how quickly blood sugar levels rise after eating a particular type of food, … relative to consumption of pure glucose. Glucose has a glycemic index of 100.” The GI of sugar ranges from about 60 to 70; xylitol is 7 to 13.
As you look into GI information, you will find much discussion on the difference between “glycemic index” and “glycemic load.” However, for my purposes in this article, and in my kitchen where I have longed for a real and healthy alternative to sugar, I am concerned only with substituting the one straight across for the other, so GI is all that matters. Xylitol has the same sweetness as sugar, so it is used in the same amounts in recipes. With Thanksgiving coming up, I was looking forward to trying it in my pumpkin pie recipe, hoping that maybe I could indulge a little along with my family, without suffering a debilitating crash.
Well, I mixed up my pastry, which I make with half whole wheat flour and half unbleached white, using butter as shortening because I refuse to have “may-be-hydrogenated pig fat” in my home. And into the shell I poured the spicy blend of pumpkin et al. And was that pie ever good! I carefully limited myself to a half-serving and braced myself for the fall. But it never came.
The next afternoon I phoned Greg, who was already on the road again, and told him that in spite of the pie, I was feeling really good. In fact, I said, I felt better than usual.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
And I replied, “I think God is telling me I need to eat more pumpkin pie.”
He was quick to concur. He knows that if I am to eat more pie, I have to make more pie, which means that he will get more pie.
The xylitol I bought was, as I mentioned, made from the coconut tree. It’s rather coarse, and brown in colour, so best suits recipes calling for brown sugar. But now I found a white xylitol, made from birch trees. And when Greg next came home from his project in Vernon, with a box of huge apples from his client, I made the first apple pie that our household has seen in over 15 years. Hubby was ecstatic. He thought it was the best apple pie he’d ever eaten. And I ate lots, with no ill effects.
There are other sources for xylitol being investigated, including corn, but these might best be avoided, due to the GMO question. Coconut as a source is considered to be the most sustainable, being harvested from the flowers. Birch, on the other hand, must be cut down to extract the sugar, so responsible management here is really important. But a great asset of the birch product is that it has the most significant dental benefits of all the xylitols.
Yes, according to Wikipedia, with xylitol in general, “recent research confirms a plaque-reducing effect and suggests the compound, having some chemical properties similar to sucrose, attracts and then “starves” harmful micro-organisms, allowing the mouth to re-mineralize damaged teeth …. (However, this same effect also interferes with yeast micro-organisms and others, so xylitol is inappropriate for making yeast-based bread.)”
At www.xylitol.org is this information: “Use of xylitol raises the pH of saliva in the mouth. When pH is above 7, calcium and phosphate salts in saliva start to precipitate into those parts of enamel where they are lacking. For this reason, use of xylitol has demonstrated not only a dramatic reduction in new tooth decay, it also has shown the arrest and even some reversal of existing dental caries."
Bring on the pie!
-----
An addendum, July 4, 2013: Subsequent, to my publishing the article above, a vet friend wrote to tell me that Xylitol will kill a dog, in fairly small amounts. I googled a bit about it and put those thoughts on hold for a while. Recently I looked into it a little more and I decided I don’t want to use this sweetener anymore. It’s an alarmingly complex process, “refining” this “sugar” from birch and coconut trees, and there are reasons to be wary of using this product. Here is the article that set me back on my heels: http://www.naturalnews.com/022986_xylitol_health_sugar.html
Please read it and make your own decision.
Further reading revealed that this kind of sugar, named xylitol, was discovered at about the same time by both French and German chemists, late in the 1800s, and became popular throughout Europe as a safe sweetener for diabetics. During World War II when sugar was in short supply, xylitol became a popular substitute.
What we now know about this sugar is that it has a very low glycemic index (GI). If you haven’t heard of GI before, Wikipedia explains it as “a measure of how quickly blood sugar levels rise after eating a particular type of food, … relative to consumption of pure glucose. Glucose has a glycemic index of 100.” The GI of sugar ranges from about 60 to 70; xylitol is 7 to 13.
As you look into GI information, you will find much discussion on the difference between “glycemic index” and “glycemic load.” However, for my purposes in this article, and in my kitchen where I have longed for a real and healthy alternative to sugar, I am concerned only with substituting the one straight across for the other, so GI is all that matters. Xylitol has the same sweetness as sugar, so it is used in the same amounts in recipes. With Thanksgiving coming up, I was looking forward to trying it in my pumpkin pie recipe, hoping that maybe I could indulge a little along with my family, without suffering a debilitating crash.
Well, I mixed up my pastry, which I make with half whole wheat flour and half unbleached white, using butter as shortening because I refuse to have “may-be-hydrogenated pig fat” in my home. And into the shell I poured the spicy blend of pumpkin et al. And was that pie ever good! I carefully limited myself to a half-serving and braced myself for the fall. But it never came.
The next afternoon I phoned Greg, who was already on the road again, and told him that in spite of the pie, I was feeling really good. In fact, I said, I felt better than usual.
“So what do you think?” he asked.
And I replied, “I think God is telling me I need to eat more pumpkin pie.”
He was quick to concur. He knows that if I am to eat more pie, I have to make more pie, which means that he will get more pie.
The xylitol I bought was, as I mentioned, made from the coconut tree. It’s rather coarse, and brown in colour, so best suits recipes calling for brown sugar. But now I found a white xylitol, made from birch trees. And when Greg next came home from his project in Vernon, with a box of huge apples from his client, I made the first apple pie that our household has seen in over 15 years. Hubby was ecstatic. He thought it was the best apple pie he’d ever eaten. And I ate lots, with no ill effects.
There are other sources for xylitol being investigated, including corn, but these might best be avoided, due to the GMO question. Coconut as a source is considered to be the most sustainable, being harvested from the flowers. Birch, on the other hand, must be cut down to extract the sugar, so responsible management here is really important. But a great asset of the birch product is that it has the most significant dental benefits of all the xylitols.
Yes, according to Wikipedia, with xylitol in general, “recent research confirms a plaque-reducing effect and suggests the compound, having some chemical properties similar to sucrose, attracts and then “starves” harmful micro-organisms, allowing the mouth to re-mineralize damaged teeth …. (However, this same effect also interferes with yeast micro-organisms and others, so xylitol is inappropriate for making yeast-based bread.)”
At www.xylitol.org is this information: “Use of xylitol raises the pH of saliva in the mouth. When pH is above 7, calcium and phosphate salts in saliva start to precipitate into those parts of enamel where they are lacking. For this reason, use of xylitol has demonstrated not only a dramatic reduction in new tooth decay, it also has shown the arrest and even some reversal of existing dental caries."
Bring on the pie!
-----
An addendum, July 4, 2013: Subsequent, to my publishing the article above, a vet friend wrote to tell me that Xylitol will kill a dog, in fairly small amounts. I googled a bit about it and put those thoughts on hold for a while. Recently I looked into it a little more and I decided I don’t want to use this sweetener anymore. It’s an alarmingly complex process, “refining” this “sugar” from birch and coconut trees, and there are reasons to be wary of using this product. Here is the article that set me back on my heels: http://www.naturalnews.com/022986_xylitol_health_sugar.html
Please read it and make your own decision.
Sunday, November 11, 2012
41. Don’t Put It on Your Skin – Part III
So what do I put on my skin, and why? I mentioned previously that I start by washing my face with as pure and simple a soap as I can find. Then I spray with either colloidal silver or copper, in place of an astringent. Silver kills bacteria, viruses, parasites, and fungi, so this is a gentle but effective way to prevent or treat various skin problems. Silver also has amazing healing properties that promote regeneration of healthy, normal cells. Terrific for sun burns too.
Copper has a similar, gentle antiseptic effect, but its real claim to fame is that it enables the skin to keep on (or resume) producing collagen and elastin, provided there are also sufficient resources of Vitamin C and zinc in the body. It is deficiency of copper that causes the skin to sag and wrinkle as we age. With its claim of restoring resilience and flexibility, I even suggested to one customer that she try spraying a little on her husband’s attitude.
Copper also is responsible for helping the hair follicles produce melanin, which is what gives hair its natural colour. Loss of copper leads to greying hair. For this reason, when people buy colloidal copper from me, I suggest that in addition to spraying it on their face, they likewise apply it to the scalp.
After one or the other of these skin “fresheners,” I spray on a 50/50 mix of organic glycerine and rosewater. People with oily skin have found a heavier percentage of rose water to be helpful; conversely, those with dry skin increase the proportion of glycerin.
The rose water I buy is from 100% steam-distilled fresh rose blossoms, picked in the world-famous Bulgarian Rose Valley. It is a pure, undiluted, food-grade product, containing no preservatives, additives, or synthetic ingredients. This is what they say about their product: “Rose water is one of the all-time best and most traditional facial cleansers and has multiple skin-care uses. [It] is used to treat acne and skin irritation. Rose water is also added to bathing water and is used for moisturizing the body after bath. It balances skin pH level ... [and] has anti-aging and rejuvenating effects.”
The glycerin that I mix with the rose water is an organic vegetable product. Glycerin, also called glycerol, is present in all natural lipids (fats), whether animal or vegetable. It is a “skin-identical ingredient,” meaning it is a substance found naturally in our skin. It is a humectant, that is, it attracts water. When applied to the skin, it seals in moisture that might otherwise escape. It also draws moisture from the air and from the deeper layers of tissue. With the use of glycerin, the skin takes on a healthier, more attractive appearance and a softer, more supple feel.
Glycerin helps maintain the outer barrier and prevent dryness or scaling. It is used not only in cosmetic and but also medical applications. For example, it fights the effects of skin conditions like psoriasis.
I’ve used glycerin and rose water products off and on since I was a little girl. Now with all organic ingredients, I feel confident that I have the best mix yet. Not only do I use it on my face but for an all-body moisturizer as well.
The final product I use in my facial regimen is organic coconut oil, something that’s getting a lot of press recently. Not only is it an excellent edible oil, hair tonic, and massage oil, but it’s a wonderful balm for the skin.
Comprised of healthy saturated fats, coconut oil keeps skin smooth to the touch and helps it retain moisture. It naturally contains certain fatty acids having effective disinfectant and anti-microbial properties. As a result, coconut oil protects skin from infections. Coconut oil is rich in proteins, which keep skin healthy and rejuvenated on the surface as well as deep down. It is loaded with anti-oxidants so it doesn’t go rancid, a real plus whether it’s used as a food or for skin care. You can use it as a lip balm and make-up remover as well. On a warm summer’s day, I’ll often find my little jar of coconut oil has become liquid; in the winter it’s more like refrigerated butter: I scoop some out and rub it between my hands until it’s liquid and will smooth easily onto my face.
At first I used it plain, but when I discovered the healing benefits of frankincense, I began to add a few drops of that essential oil to the coconut. Frankincense oxygenates cells, improves elasticity and reduces wrinkles. An added bonus, it’s recently been proven that breathing the fragrance eases anxiety and depression. Go ahead: put it on your skin.
Copper has a similar, gentle antiseptic effect, but its real claim to fame is that it enables the skin to keep on (or resume) producing collagen and elastin, provided there are also sufficient resources of Vitamin C and zinc in the body. It is deficiency of copper that causes the skin to sag and wrinkle as we age. With its claim of restoring resilience and flexibility, I even suggested to one customer that she try spraying a little on her husband’s attitude.
Copper also is responsible for helping the hair follicles produce melanin, which is what gives hair its natural colour. Loss of copper leads to greying hair. For this reason, when people buy colloidal copper from me, I suggest that in addition to spraying it on their face, they likewise apply it to the scalp.
After one or the other of these skin “fresheners,” I spray on a 50/50 mix of organic glycerine and rosewater. People with oily skin have found a heavier percentage of rose water to be helpful; conversely, those with dry skin increase the proportion of glycerin.
The rose water I buy is from 100% steam-distilled fresh rose blossoms, picked in the world-famous Bulgarian Rose Valley. It is a pure, undiluted, food-grade product, containing no preservatives, additives, or synthetic ingredients. This is what they say about their product: “Rose water is one of the all-time best and most traditional facial cleansers and has multiple skin-care uses. [It] is used to treat acne and skin irritation. Rose water is also added to bathing water and is used for moisturizing the body after bath. It balances skin pH level ... [and] has anti-aging and rejuvenating effects.”
The glycerin that I mix with the rose water is an organic vegetable product. Glycerin, also called glycerol, is present in all natural lipids (fats), whether animal or vegetable. It is a “skin-identical ingredient,” meaning it is a substance found naturally in our skin. It is a humectant, that is, it attracts water. When applied to the skin, it seals in moisture that might otherwise escape. It also draws moisture from the air and from the deeper layers of tissue. With the use of glycerin, the skin takes on a healthier, more attractive appearance and a softer, more supple feel.
Glycerin helps maintain the outer barrier and prevent dryness or scaling. It is used not only in cosmetic and but also medical applications. For example, it fights the effects of skin conditions like psoriasis.
I’ve used glycerin and rose water products off and on since I was a little girl. Now with all organic ingredients, I feel confident that I have the best mix yet. Not only do I use it on my face but for an all-body moisturizer as well.
The final product I use in my facial regimen is organic coconut oil, something that’s getting a lot of press recently. Not only is it an excellent edible oil, hair tonic, and massage oil, but it’s a wonderful balm for the skin.
Comprised of healthy saturated fats, coconut oil keeps skin smooth to the touch and helps it retain moisture. It naturally contains certain fatty acids having effective disinfectant and anti-microbial properties. As a result, coconut oil protects skin from infections. Coconut oil is rich in proteins, which keep skin healthy and rejuvenated on the surface as well as deep down. It is loaded with anti-oxidants so it doesn’t go rancid, a real plus whether it’s used as a food or for skin care. You can use it as a lip balm and make-up remover as well. On a warm summer’s day, I’ll often find my little jar of coconut oil has become liquid; in the winter it’s more like refrigerated butter: I scoop some out and rub it between my hands until it’s liquid and will smooth easily onto my face.
At first I used it plain, but when I discovered the healing benefits of frankincense, I began to add a few drops of that essential oil to the coconut. Frankincense oxygenates cells, improves elasticity and reduces wrinkles. An added bonus, it’s recently been proven that breathing the fragrance eases anxiety and depression. Go ahead: put it on your skin.
40. Don’t Put It on Your Skin – Part II
A health regimen is a work in progress, continually evolving. It’s only two weeks ago that I first wrote about skin care, and now I’ve already changed my mind. (It’s a prerogative of my gender.) I said that I washed my face with Pears soap or good old Ivory. But it seems that Pears, the lovely clear amber bar whose packaging boasts that it is “a 200 years old brand” is quite up to date ingredient-wise, in its use of sodium laurel sulphate and a long list of other chemicals. And Ivory’s old recipe, sadly, is recently replaced with one new and not-so-improved.
Sodium laurel sulphate (SLS) and its shirt-tail cousin sodium laureth sulfate (SLES) are harsh, inexpensive chemicals that cause our soaps, shampoos, toothpastes, and detergents to foam up in that pleasing way that makes us feel the product is really doing its job: i.e., effectively cleaning. It’s the identical agent that is used in car washes, and even in garages for degreasing car engines. Heavy duty stuff.
These chemicals are extremely drying to the skin and hair. It can cause permanent eye damage in infants and young children, and the exposure need not be directly to the eyes but even indirectly through the skin. It is retained in the tissues of the body, for as long as five days after using a single drop. It can cause damage to the hair follicles, leading to early balding. It denatures skin proteins, causing irritation and also allowing other environmental toxins to gain entry to the deeper and more sensitive layers of the skin. In this light it may be implicated in cancers of the skin.
Once it has been absorbed into the skin, one of its many effects is that it mimics estrogen. This can have all kinds of health implications, including PMS, menopausal symptoms, male infertility, and increased incidence of breast and others female cancers.
Long story short: I went hunting and found a very gentle, natural soap containing only three things: saponified olive oil, sea salt, and natural fragrance. Saponification is the process whereby lye is combined with vegetable oil or animal fat, causing a chemical reaction that produces soap and glycerin. Interestingly enough, many of the commercial, mass-produced hand soaps on the market today have had the naturally occurring glycerine with its inherent moisturizing properties removed to sell as a separate commodity, generating higher profits.
As you are inspired to read labels before buying personal care products, there are some ingredients (in addition to SLS and SLES) to watch out for and avoid:
Petrolatum, also known as petroleum jelly, is a semisolid mixture of hydrocarbons obtained from petroleum. Its presence in skin products reduces oxygen absorption and suffocates the skin, causing the death of skin cells and thus premature aging. It increases acne and causes skin irritations and rashes. It causes skin photosensitivity and promotes sun damage. Petrolatum may also interfere with the body's moisturizing mechanism, leading to dry skin and chapping, some of the very things it’s used to combat.
Mineral oil is made from petrolatum, therefore I think we can safely assume that the foregoing side effects apply here as well.
Parabens are preservatives used extensively in personal care products and even foods. They are implicated in breast cancer and also adversely affect the secretion of testosterone and the function of the male reproductive system.
Phylates or phthalates are used as plasticizers or solvents. They are found in nail polishes, deodorants, fragrances, hair gels, and sprays, and hand and body lotions. They are endocrine disrupters, wreaking absolute havoc on the hormones especially of boys and men. For a sobering and frightening video on the subject, check out the following link: http://archive.org/details/TheDisappearingMale-CBC.
This list of must-avoid chemicals is by no means exhaustive. And as bad press leaks out about a given ingredient, companies work overtime to replace it with another unknown chemical so they can get back below the radar. So my rule-of-thumb will remain, “If you don’t know what it is, don’t put it on your skin.”
Sodium laurel sulphate (SLS) and its shirt-tail cousin sodium laureth sulfate (SLES) are harsh, inexpensive chemicals that cause our soaps, shampoos, toothpastes, and detergents to foam up in that pleasing way that makes us feel the product is really doing its job: i.e., effectively cleaning. It’s the identical agent that is used in car washes, and even in garages for degreasing car engines. Heavy duty stuff.
These chemicals are extremely drying to the skin and hair. It can cause permanent eye damage in infants and young children, and the exposure need not be directly to the eyes but even indirectly through the skin. It is retained in the tissues of the body, for as long as five days after using a single drop. It can cause damage to the hair follicles, leading to early balding. It denatures skin proteins, causing irritation and also allowing other environmental toxins to gain entry to the deeper and more sensitive layers of the skin. In this light it may be implicated in cancers of the skin.
Once it has been absorbed into the skin, one of its many effects is that it mimics estrogen. This can have all kinds of health implications, including PMS, menopausal symptoms, male infertility, and increased incidence of breast and others female cancers.
Long story short: I went hunting and found a very gentle, natural soap containing only three things: saponified olive oil, sea salt, and natural fragrance. Saponification is the process whereby lye is combined with vegetable oil or animal fat, causing a chemical reaction that produces soap and glycerin. Interestingly enough, many of the commercial, mass-produced hand soaps on the market today have had the naturally occurring glycerine with its inherent moisturizing properties removed to sell as a separate commodity, generating higher profits.
As you are inspired to read labels before buying personal care products, there are some ingredients (in addition to SLS and SLES) to watch out for and avoid:
Petrolatum, also known as petroleum jelly, is a semisolid mixture of hydrocarbons obtained from petroleum. Its presence in skin products reduces oxygen absorption and suffocates the skin, causing the death of skin cells and thus premature aging. It increases acne and causes skin irritations and rashes. It causes skin photosensitivity and promotes sun damage. Petrolatum may also interfere with the body's moisturizing mechanism, leading to dry skin and chapping, some of the very things it’s used to combat.
Mineral oil is made from petrolatum, therefore I think we can safely assume that the foregoing side effects apply here as well.
Parabens are preservatives used extensively in personal care products and even foods. They are implicated in breast cancer and also adversely affect the secretion of testosterone and the function of the male reproductive system.
Phylates or phthalates are used as plasticizers or solvents. They are found in nail polishes, deodorants, fragrances, hair gels, and sprays, and hand and body lotions. They are endocrine disrupters, wreaking absolute havoc on the hormones especially of boys and men. For a sobering and frightening video on the subject, check out the following link: http://archive.org/details/TheDisappearingMale-CBC.
This list of must-avoid chemicals is by no means exhaustive. And as bad press leaks out about a given ingredient, companies work overtime to replace it with another unknown chemical so they can get back below the radar. So my rule-of-thumb will remain, “If you don’t know what it is, don’t put it on your skin.”
Thursday, November 8, 2012
39. Don’t Put It on Your Skin – Part I
If you wouldn’t eat it, don’t put it on your skin. This is an adage I’m learning to live by. Ever since I began to use bio-identical hormones, I’ve rethought what I use on the outside of me. Some of the hormones I take are applied transdermally (via cream on the skin), and it’s made me realize that a lot of what I put on the outside ends up on the inside. That’s a pretty scary thought when you look at the list of chemicals on some of the cosmetics, skin creams, and shampoos on the shelf. And I don’t care if you bought it for two dollars at Walmart or forty at a spa, if you can’t pronounce the ingredients or you don’t know what they are, don’t put it on your skin.
I was recently at a dermatologist to whom I’d been referred after breaking out in strange lesions on the side of my face, back in early June. By the time I’d seen three doctors and waited to see a specialist, it had all but disappeared, thanks to my trusty iodine (Lugol’s Solution) and, due to a timely tip from an acquaintance, frankincense oil. Still, I kept the dermatologist appointment because I had four or five other spots that I’ve wondered about and this was a golden opportunity to lay my mind to rest about them. The doctor, after looking me over quickly and thoroughly, assured me there was nothing of concern. She fried two of the spots with her liquid nitrogen. Then she said brusquely, “Remember, protection is key,” and handed me a sample of SPF 30 sunscreen before bustling out of the room.
Although I’d smiled and nodded at her counsel, I left the sample sitting on her desk. Call me crazy, but I just can’t bring myself to put that stuff on my skin. I’ll call you crazy as you slather it on. Okay, on the rare occasion that my husband and I have found ourselves on a tropical beach somewhere, I have made an exception to extend the tolerance to sun and surf. But generally I cover up with light clothing when I think I’ve had enough sun and I spray with colloidal silver when I’ve had too much. It’s a terrific healing balm for a sun-burn.
In all likelihood, we will eventually discover that skin cancer is rooted in nutritional deficiencies. My guess is that Vitamin D is a big player here, along with generous amounts of other antioxidants, via food or supplements. Enter Lugol’s solution, again.
So what do I do for skin care? I’ve always been a fan of glycerin and rosewater because that’s what my mother used. Tritles, it was called. A pretty, clear pink lotion in a hand-pump bottle or white frothy cream in a jar. I was so disappointed when they stopped manufacturing it fifteen or twenty years ago, as this was my staple for hand and body cream. But now I realize anyway that the nice pink colour was probably not a good thing and that what made the white cream so frothy was probably sodium laurel sulphate.
Regarding facial care, for thirty years I was a faithful customer of a well-known multi-level skin-care and cosmetic company. More recently I have seen these products sized up on a site that rates personal care products for safety health-wise. I have since stopped using all that stuff too.
This is where I stand today. I buy organic vegetable glycerin from one website and organic Bulgarian rosewater from another. I mix them 50/50 and put the clear mixture in a glass spray bottle. It’s terrific for face, hand, and body moisturizer, and a smaller spray bottle carries handily in purse (or shaving kit, in my husband’s case). One is perfectly assured of its safety on the skin, because both of the ingredients are safe to eat. In fact, the rosewater comes with a little pamphlet that includes a couple of recipes for using it in exotic desserts.
I wash my face (and body) with good old Ivory soap or glycerin-based Pears. After rinsing thoroughly, I spray with colloidal silver, in place of a mild astringent or skin freshener. Then I spray lightly with my glycerin and rosewater mix and gently rub it in. Finally I smooth on some coconut oil that has a bit of frankincense essential oil mixed in. I’m trying to find Vitamins A, E, and D in a pure oil form to add in, as these are all very good for the skin. I may eventually make this skincare “set” available at the Farmers’ Market; then if customers would like, I can tell them how to source and mix the ingredients themselves.
I was recently at a dermatologist to whom I’d been referred after breaking out in strange lesions on the side of my face, back in early June. By the time I’d seen three doctors and waited to see a specialist, it had all but disappeared, thanks to my trusty iodine (Lugol’s Solution) and, due to a timely tip from an acquaintance, frankincense oil. Still, I kept the dermatologist appointment because I had four or five other spots that I’ve wondered about and this was a golden opportunity to lay my mind to rest about them. The doctor, after looking me over quickly and thoroughly, assured me there was nothing of concern. She fried two of the spots with her liquid nitrogen. Then she said brusquely, “Remember, protection is key,” and handed me a sample of SPF 30 sunscreen before bustling out of the room.
Although I’d smiled and nodded at her counsel, I left the sample sitting on her desk. Call me crazy, but I just can’t bring myself to put that stuff on my skin. I’ll call you crazy as you slather it on. Okay, on the rare occasion that my husband and I have found ourselves on a tropical beach somewhere, I have made an exception to extend the tolerance to sun and surf. But generally I cover up with light clothing when I think I’ve had enough sun and I spray with colloidal silver when I’ve had too much. It’s a terrific healing balm for a sun-burn.
In all likelihood, we will eventually discover that skin cancer is rooted in nutritional deficiencies. My guess is that Vitamin D is a big player here, along with generous amounts of other antioxidants, via food or supplements. Enter Lugol’s solution, again.
So what do I do for skin care? I’ve always been a fan of glycerin and rosewater because that’s what my mother used. Tritles, it was called. A pretty, clear pink lotion in a hand-pump bottle or white frothy cream in a jar. I was so disappointed when they stopped manufacturing it fifteen or twenty years ago, as this was my staple for hand and body cream. But now I realize anyway that the nice pink colour was probably not a good thing and that what made the white cream so frothy was probably sodium laurel sulphate.
Regarding facial care, for thirty years I was a faithful customer of a well-known multi-level skin-care and cosmetic company. More recently I have seen these products sized up on a site that rates personal care products for safety health-wise. I have since stopped using all that stuff too.
This is where I stand today. I buy organic vegetable glycerin from one website and organic Bulgarian rosewater from another. I mix them 50/50 and put the clear mixture in a glass spray bottle. It’s terrific for face, hand, and body moisturizer, and a smaller spray bottle carries handily in purse (or shaving kit, in my husband’s case). One is perfectly assured of its safety on the skin, because both of the ingredients are safe to eat. In fact, the rosewater comes with a little pamphlet that includes a couple of recipes for using it in exotic desserts.
I wash my face (and body) with good old Ivory soap or glycerin-based Pears. After rinsing thoroughly, I spray with colloidal silver, in place of a mild astringent or skin freshener. Then I spray lightly with my glycerin and rosewater mix and gently rub it in. Finally I smooth on some coconut oil that has a bit of frankincense essential oil mixed in. I’m trying to find Vitamins A, E, and D in a pure oil form to add in, as these are all very good for the skin. I may eventually make this skincare “set” available at the Farmers’ Market; then if customers would like, I can tell them how to source and mix the ingredients themselves.
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