Category Archives: food rules

Imagine a world without grains. You can’t have bread. You can’t have crackers, pasta, or cereal. You can’t have baked goods. No cookies or cakes unless they’re made with almond or coconut flour. Your idea of a healthy breakfast used to be whole grain toast and a bowl of oatmeal but you can’t have either of those anymore. You go to a Chinese restaurant, but you can’t have rice. No noodles either. Even the breading on your fried chicken has got to go.

Is it any wonder that when you ask people to give up bread and other grains for a month, they start to freak out a little? You see, I’m always talking to those around me about trying the paleo/primal lifestyle. It’s easy, I tell them, you can eat all the meat and vegetables that you want. Round out your diet with some good nuts, some full-fat dairy, some healthy fats and a little fruit and voila, you’re eating paleo/primal! Just try it for thirty days and see how much better you feel.

But then they find out about the bread. Or lack thereof. But I can’t live without my bread, they say. What will I eat if I can’t have bread? If I can’t have pasta or cereal? What will I eat for lunch when I can’t have a sandwich?

Curious about the individual responses, I asked around to friends and family. Why would it be so hard for you to give up bread for thirty days?

• “I like bread. I like pasta. What’s the alternative? Vegetables and meat? Oooh, what about pizza? You’d have to give up pizza. I guess it wouldn’t be hard. Inconvenient is what it would be. Damn inconvenient.”
• “You’d have to give up easy fixings. You couldn’t have sandwiches. Sandwiches is the big thing. I used to eat bread for every meal. I don’t like stuff in a salad like that.”
• “Because it would be hard to find a substitute to making sandwiches for lunch because it’s so easy and convenient.”
• “The worst part would be the immediate fullness you get from them. I would eat more because I’d never be satisfied.”
• “A whole month without bread?! No vegemite on toast, or nice lunch rolls. Nope, I couldn’t do it.”
• “Because…there’s no other good way to transport meat to my mouth. I love bread. I mean, I just love bread. You can put all kinds of stuff on it. Buttered bread is just great.”

Bread is such an inherent part of our lives, such a staple in our diets that it evokes strong visceral responses. Think of the feeling that you get when you break open a freshly baked roll daubed with melted butter. It goes above and beyond mere nutrition. There’s an emotional response tied into the consumption of bread and other grains. The feeling of instant fullness, the satisfaction you derive from those starchy, sugary carbs – it’s beyond physical. Tell someone that they can’t have any bread for a month? They’d rather lose a limb rather than modify that part of their diet.

To be honest, I used to be one of those dedicated bread-philes. A few years ago, I found out that my boss at the time had completely given up bread. He was one of the fittest people I knew. He always kept himself in excellent shape and carefully maintained his weight, but one of the way he had done so was by completely giving up any and all forms of bread. At the time, even though I saw what great shape he was in, I thought it was madness. I couldn’t imagine giving up bread in all of its forms, even if it meant better health and greater fitness.

But fast forward four years and I’ve done it. I might use my 20% to indulge in something sweet, but I rarely consume bread anymore. I won’t lie and say it wasn’t hard – it was. The physical dependence was initially the hardest – the carb withdrawl was brutal but didn’t last nearly as long this time. The emotional dependence has been harder. It is hard to give up bread. It’s not necessarily as convenient to turn my sandwich into a big salad, and eating a burger sans bun with a fork and knife isn’t quite the same. But it’s worth it.

I’ve had horrible acid-reflux for the past five years and it had gotten bad enough that sometimes I had to double my dose. But when I cut back on my grains and increase my vegetable intake to compensate, my acid reflux is so much better that I can start taking my medicine every other day instead of twice a day. When I quit bread, my bowel movements are healthier and I don’t have to run to the bathroom after every meal. My insulin levels go back to normal and I start to lose belly fat from my waist. I feel better. I look better – even my skin is better when I stop eating bread.

So I guess it comes down to whether or not it’s worth it. For me? Absolutely. And I think it would be for others, as well. But asking someone to give up bread, even for only thirty days, is a big deal. But like so many things, once you give up the instant gratification aspect of it, it’s totally worth it in the long run. I guess you have to ask yourself, are you in it for the long run? Some people only care about the here and now. They’re only interested in what today brings and tomorrow is an abstract concept too far away to deal with. Others are in it for the long haul. They don’t want today’s indulgence to turn into tomorrow’s poor health. Tomorrow, they want to be just as healthy as they are today, if not more so. What kind of person are you? Ask yourself that and then maybe that piece of buttered toast might not seem that worth it.