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| Tender almond flour muffins bursting with fresh blueberries. |
Today I am sharing a new gluten-free muffin recipe, and a health update on my
Gut Instinct post. I know, I know. Another muffin recipe? Most food bloggers are waxing poetic about grilling burgers and dyeing frosting for their red, white, and blue recipes this upcoming July Fourth weekend, but the truth is, Babycakes, I'm just not into it. I'm in such a different head space that it almost seems comical to me, reading headlines in my Inbox about the "Ultimate Burger", or how July Fourth wouldn't
be a real celebration without a hunk of charred All-American meat or a Philly cheese dog.
Um. What?
Don't worry. I'm not gearing up for an anti-meat rant or anything. That would be downright unpatriotic of me. Though, come to think of it, Thomas Edison was pretty patriotic, wasn't he? He invented the light bulb. An American light bulb. And I like what Tom said, "Until we stop harming all other living beings, we are still savages."
A powerful thought.
So hang with me for a minute. I've been thinking about America lately, and her addictions.
To oil.
Fast food.
Meat. I've read Michael Pollan
. And found Fast Food Nation informative. I was disturbed by Food Inc
. And inspired by Jamie Oliver's Food Revolution
. I'm a thinking human.
I like to ponder stuff.
So after living most of my life as a
vegetarian (sometimes
flexitarian), when I was told, post
hip-surgery, to eat animal protein in order to mend my fractured hip, I complied with my surgeon's advice. I went the organic, free-range, wild caught, sustainable route. And my hip healed. And three years later, I walk without a limp.
But here's the thing. My monkey gut hasn't been happy. Some of it's nerves, I know. Triggered by said hip incident and general, all purpose economic worry. Better known as STRESS. The Devil. Pure evil to your happy little cells.
Life'll kill ya. As Warren Zevon
said.
So when I
recently went for six days nil by mouth to calm my digestion and heal my sad and wounded duodenum, I tried to look on the bright side. Hey. I had an IV- I was detoxing by default- no caffeine, no alcohol, no red meat, no refined flour. No nothing.
Darling, it was like a trip to the spa.
But without a masseuse and Carlos Nakai
.
Doctor's orders upon leaving shot a shiver down my spine. Four weeks of non-pointy food. Blandville all the way. No wine. No spices. No coffee. No tea. He paused and looked at me over the rim of his glasses and reiterated, Not even de-caf!
Forever? I asked. He shrugged a Well, yeah, as to a slow witted child. I blinked and nodded my best upbeat gluten-free goddess nod. I went home. And I did it. Banana smoothies and mashed potatoes defined my life. I was the Queen of Puree.
Five weeks later I underwent something I have feared for years. The dreaded endoscopy. I have issues with people stuffing tubes down my throat, okay? Not to mention, cameras. I demanded good drugs. It went off without a hitch. Sitting up in recovery, I yelled out to the anesthesiologist passing by the curtain, I love you!
I get that a lot, she said.
The good news? No villi damage (go gluten-free diet!).
My doc was happy. We even discussed trying an anti-inflammatory diet. It turns out he's gluten-free by choice. And receptive to the idea that our diet can influence our health (what a concept, right?).
Read more + get the recipe >>
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Résuméabuiyad
and raw red onion. The heart that misses Penne Arrabiata and roasted tomato salsa. The pragmatic heart that now beats on a mission, to quell this monkey gut of mine long enough to heal a stubborn duodenal ulcer. 
. Have you read it? Harriet- the anti-heroine- helped change my life back in the Dark Ages. It was 1964 and girls were expected to giggle and take ballet and dream of party dresses. We were encouraged to walk with books on our heads to cultivate a ladylike gait, and practice buttoning the baby teeth pearls on our slim white gloves with nimble, dainty fingers. 
, scribbled down stories and drew pictures. I created a world. It was my book of secrets. 
I take pictures. I walk and look and catch snippets of conversation. I photograph street life and shop windows, found art and empty spaces. The iPhone is my notebook now. I am recording my observations. 