Change Your Language Around Food This Year

It’s time for all of the “I’m gonna’s.” This year I’m gonna lose 20 pounds. This year I’m gonna work out six days a week. This year I’m gonna drink less soda. But have you ever, at the beginning of a fresh new year, resolved to change your language around something instead of your behavior?  

May I propose to you that when talking about food this next year we use the words “nutritious” and “delicious.” That’s it–just those two words. Let’s archive the words “diet” and “weight loss.”

I did this a few years ago. I decided I wanted to eat nutritious food that was delicious, and those two words were my resolve. For a stretch of time, I got a three-ring binder and filled it with information about vitamins and minerals, with lists of what foods were packed with those valuable nutrients. 

Then I went on a hunt for delicious. 

The other night I made a new recipe of spicy glazed yams, and they were one of the most delicious foods I have ever eaten. Those yams, in bold color,  looked beautiful on the plate, humbly filled with potassium, B6, manganese, thiamin, fiber, and vitamin C. In all their glory, they did not need a label to tell me their nutrient content. The glaze provided a complete flavor profile, including sweet, spicy, and umami. Matt and I looked at each other after our first fork full. Oh yes. This was a culinary masterpiece.

And the winter kale salad? With crumbled goat cheese, pomegranate arils, chopped apples, roasted butternut squash, shaved brussels sprouts, and sweet vinaigrette? A burst of flavors and textures in the mouth, with a visual presentation of happy Christmas colors. And yes the nutrition, but who’s thinking of that when they get another heaping spoonful on the plate? 

Two days ago, I made homemade sourdough pretzels with fresh-milled wheat berries, and these are whole-grain happiness dipped in black truffle infused olive oil. Because nutritious food should taste good.

Jesus said the thief came to steal, kill, and destroy. Sounds like a trendy diet to me. 

Jesus came so that we could have life and have it to the full, and if that isn’t the picture of plates full of delicious nutrition, I don’t know what is. Didn’t he say he was the bread of life? It’s easier to feel that imagery when you’ve just slathered a piece of homemade toasted sourdough with savory whipped ricotta cheese for a mid morning snack. (Thank you Joshua McFadden for your cookbook Six Seasons: A New Way with Vegetables.) 

Do you know what I haven’t seen around my house for a very long time? Guilt. There’s no food guilt. In fact, when it comes to food and cooking I only feel joy. The mise en place (a French phrase for gathering all of the ingredients before beginning to cook) in my kitchen always shouts of vitamins and minerals and wonderful fats and whole grains and legumes. I give the chef’s kiss of the fingers before I’ve even begun to compile the dish.  

Last year I started a new recipe binder just for vegetables, and it is bulging. I had no idea there were so many ways to prepare vegetables that are delectable. At my annual physical a few weeks ago, the nurse practitioner asked about what I eat in a typical day, including vegetables. My eyes lit up, and maybe she was sorry she asked. She said that I was a boring patient, and I’m thinking today that if a lot of people get happy about eating nutritious and delicious food, there might be a growing number of bored doctors out there. 

I made a bold statement a while back: I am going to shape the nutritional legacy of my family. I studied hard at the beginning of this year to become a financial coach, and I learned to encourage people to change the financial legacy of their family. But what about the nutritional legacy of the family? What a joyful way to start the year–wanting to design food for the family that is nutritious. I use my imagination to picture my children and grandchildren and great grandchildren handing down my recipe binders because the recipes I’ve collected taste so good. I imagine all of us being robustly healthy because of this nutrition legacy. 

You know, in a diet you use language that revolves around limitations. You have to tell people, “Sorry, I can’t have that. I’m on a diet.” But in a pursuit of nutritious and delicious food, you use language that is expansive. You’re eating more foods and exploring more flavors and ingredients. Pretty soon, you realize there’s no end in sight of how many tasty dishes you can make. It’s the abundant life that Jesus promises. 

Sometimes new words are all you need for a new year. You might oughta write “nutritious” and “delicious” down on notecards and stick them on your fridge door. Make it the resolution in your home to use life-giving words around food.