The woman who fed me

I often like a country for the people I meet there. It turns out you can like a restaurant for its owner too.

Our Airbnb sits at the foot of Mount Buram, in a quiet neighborhood where a small creek and shaded hiking trails are practically at our door. A few steps in the other direction lies the district food zone — several dozen small restaurants packed into a few alleys, each devoted to a specific style of Korean cooking. That afternoon, we had a craving for raw fish.

The restaurant we entered was short on options. The owner, a bespectacled middle-aged woman, explained that they carried only salmon and tuna — but that their salmon was special and tasty. Something about her manner convinced us to stay.

The sake selection on the shelves was extensive. She poured our choice into a double-walled chilling decanter, and we sipped while she covered our table with small dishes of sauces, pickles, and condiments. After delivering the sashimi, she withdrew to the corner.

I confidently picked up the chopsticks, ready to dip the salmon into soy sauce, when she swooped in, blocked my hand with a gentle smile, and took the utensils from my grip.

"Let me show you," she said with a childlike grin.

She flattened a slice of salmon on a small plate, dabbed it with wasabi, and layered it with a sliver of ginger, a single caper, a few curls of onion, and a tuft of green radish sprouts. Then she dipped a piece of yellow radish into the soy sauce and used it to sparingly drizzle the assembly. Apologizing — unnecessarily — for her chopstick skills, she carefully folded the whole thing into a neat parcel, and placed it on my tongue like an offering.

The flavor and texture that followed were extraordinary. I also understood, in that moment, that a woman who feeds you becomes an object of desire. (An Oedipus complex, perhaps?)

She prepared one for Adi as well — with enough wasabi to produce flames from her nostrils. After Adi's recovery, the meal continued pleasantly, with more sake, more fish, and easy conversation. We learned about the owner's family in Canada, the merits of Norwegian versus Canadian salmon (the European is larger and more flavorful, she insisted), and her husband's particular way with the fish.

At the end of the meal, she brought us two ripe plums — an unexpected and personal touch. At the register, she slipped a Kopiko candy into my mouth and managed to tuck a few more into Adi's pocket.

Yes, you can like a restaurant for its owner. The salmon was excellent too

Petals falling, Questions rising

The Memorial Day sirens wailed as I strolled along my favorite stream. As always, even though I was not in Israel, I stood still.

I tried to visualize the friends who, fifty and sixty years ago, were fighting beside me when they died. I still remember them—vividly.

But then that phrase popped into my head: “He gave his life.”

Really? Gave it?
If someone had asked me back then, “Would you be willing to give your life?” —
F… NO.

Fortunately, no one phrased it that way. We were simply asked to risk our lives.
And at that age, risking my life was easy.

When the sirens stopped, I realized I was standing next to a wild patch of poppies. I’d been watching them for weeks—first budding, then bursting into brilliant red.

Now, their color is fading. The petals are falling.
They’re not dying, I thought. They’re just transforming into seeds.

Was that their purpose all along—creating new life?
Is it mine?

My petals, I admit, are fading too. But as far as seeding goes—mission already accomplished, with three delightful results.

I kept pondering the question of life purpose, but couldn’t come up with one that felt truly satisfying.
If any of my readers have a suggestion, I’m open. Bonus points if you leave it as a comment, not an email.

As I continued my walk, I made peace with the idea that I don’t really need a capital-P Purpose.
But I can reflect on my objectives and actions. So I came up with a few guiding principles.

They mostly lean toward the via negativa—the “don’t do dumb stuff” school of wisdom:

• Don’t harm others.

• Don’t harm the environment.

• Try not to harm myself. (Easier said than done.)

• Don’t do things I dislike. (Seriously, time’s getting short.)

On the active side, I have just two rules:

1. Do things I enjoy.

2. Stay able to follow rule #1.

Of course, many activities don’t fit neatly into those two. Such as, say, helping others or saving humanity.

To which I say: Sure—if it brings you joy.

Be happy.
Or at least aim for pleasantly amused.

Supplement to "Fishing"

"Wild" vs 

Manicured

Inspired by Yael.
 

Fishing

A stream winds through our densely populated high-rise district in Seoul. It runs about ten meters below street level, secluded from the sights and sounds of life above. The city government thoughtfully built walking paths along both banks and lined them with decorative plants.

It's springtime, and the flowers are in full bloom. In some stretches, bright red poppies grow in wild abandon. In others, lovingly manicured flower beds form artistic displays of color and shape. Rock steps laid across the streambed make the water sing as it flows. Many residents enjoy their free time walking these paths. Their quiet presence does not disturb the various waterfowl that visit the stream.

As I walked, my thoughts drifted between the vivid beauty around me (Mindfulness) and considering ways to test my latest investment strategy (Planning).  On the stream bank, I spotted a heron. With its flowing white beard and long black ponytail, it must be a venerable figure in the heron community. I’ve noticed it on previous walks. It stood near the water, perfectly still, intently watching the stream below—clearly waiting for a meal.

Curious, I sat on the rocks beside the water to observe. The warming sun, the cool breeze carrying the scent of flowers, and the gurgling current created an atmosphere that invited stillness. Now and then, the bird would stretch its long neck toward the water. I, too, would tense with anticipation—and... nothing. No movement. It returned to its quiet vigil.

That waiting reminded me of a lesson Doron shared with me on a long-ago hike: “The point of fishing is not catching fish. It’s the wait.” Time passed. I expected the heron to fly off in search of a better spot, but it didn’t. And, surprisingly, my mind didn’t wander either.

Eventually, I rose and walked home.

Dear reader, if you've read this far, hoping for some grand point, I’m sorry. Perhaps this post should have been titled “Waiting.” 

Happy New Year

Do nomads mark the years, or the seasons?  For us, a new year usually arrives, when we start to travel.  This year it is happening in the Spring.  To close the previous year we prepared a video of some of Adi's work.  It is an easy watch.  Less than three minutes. 

Click the link below, expand to full screen, press play, and enjoy.

https://vimeo.com/1062590107

The Blackout

Someone must have made an error, for one afternoon, even though Karl O. has always paid the bills on time, the lights in the apartment flickered, then went out.  O. reluctantly put down his kindle, and climbed down the stairs.  There were no other tenants in the entrance hall, but some of the other apartments had their lights on.  He checked the fuse, which looked fine.  He went back up, called Mr. Pinelo, the landlord, who without expressing sympathy, agreed to call the commission and report the problem.  A few minutes later, he texted what O. assumed was a question from the commission, "Is it the whole building or just you?"  "Just my apartment".   A few more minutes passed and another message arrived,  "Please send me a copy of your electricity bill".  O. complied.  Soon after, another message  "Please go down to the electricity panel, and make sure that the meter is connected well."  O.  considered this a waste of time, but he did not want to upset the landlord nor the commission, and went down again.  He shook the meter in all directions and texted back that the meter is secure.  This time, Mr. Pinelo called back,  "I reported the problem; they said they will come between an hour and ten hours from now, but usually they are prompt."

A couple of hours passed, while O. continued his reading.  As evening was setting in,  He lit a candle which tonight, perhaps affected by the novel's sinister atmosphere, made O. feel depressed rather than cozy.   He  called the commission's customer care center.  The woman on the line offered to help.  O asked her for the cause of the blackout, but she did not have an answer;  "I am sure it is not a error.  It is very rare for the commission to make an error.  In fact, I don't know of any instance when that happened."   As for the repair, her reply was short, "I am sorry, but we cannot tell you when the technicians will come.  We do not have the information at this location."  She did provide him with a 15-digit serial number of his case.  An hour or so later, O. logged on to the customer care website.  After entering his case number, came the automated reply "Your case is in process."   O. extinguished the candle, and went to bed.

He woke up fresh and energized until an unresponsive light-switch reminded him of the situation.  After a cup of coffee, which did not make him feel any better, he called the customer center again.  This time a man answered "Our records indicate that the technician came, but could not enter the premises".  O. agreed that it could happen, as all tenants are advised to lock the front gate at night.  "But why didn't he call me?"  The clerk did not reply.  Instead, he advised O. that he reactivated the case.  "When will they come?".  "Between an hour and 10 hours" was the reply.  O. was getting impatient.  "That is already 20 hours since I heard the same answer"  "I understand, and I am very sorry for the delay."  O.  was getting angry but realized that if he loses his patience, his situation will only get worse.  "Can you be more specific?"   The clerk explained that since they are a national center, they do not have information on the operations of each city.  He advised O. to visit the local commission office.  O held no hope of getting a better response in the local office, but realized that he had no other option.  He dressed and went down.

In the entrance he met Mrs. Gonzales.  "You don't have electricity?"; "Did you pay your bill?"  O.  replied that he did.  "Then you must go to the commission."  she said gravely, and quickly left.  O. checked the fuse once again.  He also looked to see if there are any outstanding bills in his mailbox.  There were none.  While doing so, he felt that he was being observed from inside the other apartments.  He went out. 

The city's commission office was  a small unmarked building in a narrow alley; almost hidden among the various auto repair shops.  A guard, wearing a wrinkled white shirt stood in front of the open door.  The interior was dark, and O. could not see inside.  He  asked for permission to enter.  "Do you have an appointment?"   O.  replied that he did not.  "Then you can not enter now." replied the guard.  "When could I go In?"  asked O.  "Not now", said the guard.  Despite the hot sun, O. stood by the door, determined not to lose his spot.  Some time passed, someone exited the office, and the guard motioned for O.  to enter.  Inside, another guard, wearing a white shirt which fit too tightly around his bulging stomach, directed O towards an empty chair.  Once seated O. looked around the room.  People were seated side by side along the walls, in a line that extended from  O. towards a glass partition, as in a bank.  They sat in silence, some ruffling through documents, others staring at nothing.  A slow moving fly kept buzzing the guard's face, who seemed not to notice and absentmindedly brushed it away.  "Are all the people here without electricity?" O. asked the person next to him.  His neighbor signaled for O.  to lower his voice, "Yes"  he said.   "how long will it take to reach the front of the line?"   "It is impossible to know." replied his neighbor in a whisper.  "I have been here many times, and each time it is different.  Sometimes each applicant takes only a minute or less to conclude his business,  at other times the line drags for ever.  Be careful; don't ask too many questions or you may be asked to leave the room.  Better be quiet..."   He concluded, and fell silent again.  'This office is strange,' thought O., 'but I have to adapt if I want my electricity back.  I should not lose my temper.  If I stay calm and logical, they are bound to see their error.'  Meanwhile, the front applicant presented his documents, and left the room.  He was replaced by the next in line.  Consequently each one of the applicants silently moved one seat to their left.  

As the line progressed, O. could observe the clerk.  She was an attractive woman, and that made O. feel better.  He was good at connecting with women.  However, as the wait dragged on, the oppressive heat in the office began to affect him.  He was sweating profusely, his heart was beating hard, and a headache soon ensued.  Any hope he previously held of a romantic spark, faded away.  When he finally reached the clerk he could hardly think clearly.  "Can I help you?" she asked politely.  O. proceeded to describe the problem.  "May I have your account number?"  O.  provided these details as the clerk, without looking at him, typed into her computer.  "Karl O.?  Your report number, please"  O.  congratulated himself on having brought this information along.   "I see here that our personnel could not enter the premisses." said the clerk as she typed.  O.  explained  the circumstances.  "Please be aware that you are not obligated to keep the gate open.  However, if our personnel cannot enter, we cannot guarantee how soon they will come again."   The stale air in the office in addition to the unbearable heat, made O feel at the point of collapse.  "When should I expect them?"  he asked.  "Soon.  Anytime between 1 hour and 24 hours from now."  O. mentioned, in his most respectful manner, that the main office told him that the local branch could have a more exact estimate of the timing.  The clerk stopped typing and with a reproachful tone  asked O.  "Our personnel is out in the field helping other customers.  Do you expect them to suspend their work just to answer your questions?"   O. was dizzy and weak.  He apologized and stumbled out the room.  Outside, he felt much better.  'That was a good meeting.' he thought.  'I made a good impression.  Surely I will have light at home.' 

Walking back, the street lamps were on, and the entrance hall was also lighted, but his apartment was still dark.  O. lit the candle, and feeling too tired to cook dinner, settled in his couch.  He picked up his kindle,  but the story only made him anxious and paranoid.  'Tomorrow, I will visit the commission again.'  he thought as he climbed to bed.

El Jefe

Yesterday's cold wind was replaced by a gentle ocean breeze, allowing the guests in our Mazatlan beach hotel to enjoy an afternoon by the pool.  Children noisily splashed in the water, while their parents relaxed on lounge chairs. Suddenly, silence, as all eyed turned towards a young man wearing dark glasses, a thick gold necklace and many tattoos.  Fully aware of the attention he attracts, he strode arrogantly across the pool deck in what can best be described as a gangster gait.   Following in close proximity were several heavy-set men, whose loose hawaiian shirts served perhaps to obscure suspicious bulges around their belt line.  The regal procession descended the stairs towards the beach.  Below, at the water line, a large band was waiting.  Many bands-for-hire cruise the Mazatlan beach, but this one included more than the usual number of  instruments. The young man exchanged fist bumps with the band, and after one of his entourage ceremoniously dusted off a beach chair, sat himself down.  In front of him was a table laden with food and drinks.  The tubas took the musical initiative, followed by the bass-drums, the trumpets, and the trombones. The prince got up to sway with the music while the heavy set men remained watchful.  Someone handed him a microphone and with a beer in hand, he began to sing.

I concluded that this must be a narco boss celebrating something special.  Perhaps the elimination of a rival gang?  Loud music carries along the beach, and soon a small crowd taking selfies, gathered around the celebration.  Eventually, I noticed a professional cameraman filming the event. That's when I started to  doubt my previous conclusion.  I gathered my courage, approached, and asked one of the onlookers for the prince's identity.  "That's Eduin Caz, a famous band singer" he answered, surprised by my ignorance.  

When Adi and I returned from our sunset stroll, The crowd was larger, few more tubas joined the band, and the music rose to a level way above ear-damage threshold.  Eduin was still singing, beer in hand.  He was having fun.  We continued to enjoy his party from our 9th floor balcony.

Prologue:  https://vimeo.com/manage/videos/935587753  (Sorry about the abrupt ending.)

For better audio:  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=nlq6Ni3kEZE

Gaza. Pause and think

  On October 7, I was walking on a sunny Ashdod beach when the rockets struck.  Like everyone in Israel, I was shocked, humiliated, and outraged.  On that day, while Hamas fighters were still killing people, Netanyahu declared "We are at War."  He added that he directed the army to "fight back on a scale and intensity that the enemy has so far not experienced.”  Initially, I welcomed his statement, but in the days that followed, I began to have doubts.  It was difficult to express these doubts while in Israel, and more difficult to do so now that I am back in Oaxaca.  In the eyes of many Israelis, it is inappropriate for me, an outsider, to discuss security matters.  However, perhaps I am allowed to ask questions.  I'll present them in reverse order.

1.  Does the conduct of this war by the IDF, an army that prides itself in innovative thinking and technical knowhow, meet your expectations?

2.  Is the cost of the war, 100 Israeli soldiers, 20,000 Gazan civilians and counting, acceptable to you?

3.  Will a war achieve permanent security for Israel?

4.  Will the war insure the release of all the hostages?

5.  Were you presented with alternatives solutions to war?

If the answer to some of these question is not a clear 'Yes!', ask yourself  'Why?' 

It could be evidence of a leadership failure to think.

I know that Israel's political and military leaders are smart and have good intention, so I will venture to guess some causes for their failure.

a.  Shock.  It is hard to think under attack

b.  They accepted and joined the national urge for revenge.  

c.   A deep personal burden of guilt may cloud rational thinking and drive one to strong violent action.

I am afraid that unless the current leaders are dismissed now, the underperformance will continue.  It is the Israeli voters turn to pause and think.

P.S.  I am often asked  "Then, what do you propose?"  All I wish to say is that I have heard many anecdotes of action that could have been taken or  action that should have been avoided, to prevent the massacre.  Those hypothetical actions are an indication that there are other options.  

Outlive, by Peter Attia MD. Book review.

Outlive aims to teach us how to live a longer healthy life.  I like the book because it fits my goals.  I am not afraid of death, but for as long as possible I wish to remain active. To achieve this goal, I need to be strong both mentally and physically.  I have been listening to Peter Attia for several years. He is an MD (and engineer,) smart, charismatic, and his explanations fit my way of thinking  (1).  The book is well organized, although, to my taste, it could be shorter by reducing the number of anecdotes.

As I was reading, I realized that the correct audience are my three middle-aged children.  They are old enough to be aware of aging, yet still have enough time to implement the advice in the book.  Perhaps this review will motivate them to read it.

The book is organized around Objective, Information, Strategy, and Tactics. 

Objective

Delay death, and get the most out of our extra years. The rest of our lives becomes a time to relish rather than to dread.

Information 

Aging is a process of deterioration of both mind and body. Eventually, the deterioration leads to illness and death.  The four main causes of death in western society are heart diseases , cancer, neurodegenerative disease (Alzheimer),  and Type 2 diabetes.  Attia named them the four horsemen [of the apocalypse.]  The book dedicates at least one chapter to each horseman, describing its causes and treatments.  The common thread in these chronic illnesses is that they are a result of a mismatch between the modern environment and our genetic makeup. 

Strategy

Today's medical practice does a good job of tackling acute disease, yet it is not equipped to handle chronic diseases.  To increase our healthspan, we need to develop a new style of medicine, which Attia names Medicine 3.0.   Since chronic illness starts to develop many years before it is recognized and treated, Version 3.0 focuses on early detection and early prevention.  It uses data to provide individuals with advice which minimizes the risk of intervention, while maximizing the reward (years of health).

Tactics

If we want to outlive our life expectancy and live it better, we will have to work.

The tactics entail five tools:  Exercise, nutrition, sleep, emotional health, and exogenous molecules (a fancy name for drugs and supplements).  Attia aims to provide general principles for these tools, rather than exact recipes, though in many cases he does provide detailed advice.

Exercise

Exercise is, by far, our most effective tool.  It is more potent than any known medication.  It can offset many adverse lifestyle factors.  Exercise reduces our risk of illness and death from any of the horsemen.  In addition, to be able to execute the activities we wish to do in our last years, we need to build some reserve now.  That includes both aerobic fitness and strength. 

We want to be able to walk uphill with our grand (or grand-grand) children, as well as pick them up when we desire.  Strong muscles also help avoid accidental falls, and the resulting bone fractures.  Interestingly, grip strength has a very high correlation to reduced mortality risk.  

          Attia provides some advice on how, how much, and how often to exercise.

Nutrition

Nutrition is a fuzzy science.  The experiments are not clear, and the effects are not large.  Bad nutrition habits can make us ill, but as long as we avoid the Standard American Diet (SAD), all other diet religions provide about the same benefit.  Instead of a diet, Attia recommends these simple rules:   "Don’t eat too many calories, or too few; consume sufficient protein and essential fats; obtain the vitamins and minerals you need; and avoid pathogens and toxins" 

All macronutrients and their qualities are discussed.  Special attention is placed on consuming sufficient protein.  For active people, sufficient daily quantity is 2.2 grams per Kg of body weight.  That's nearly three times the medical advice. 

Sleep

High quality sleep is essential to our health.  Attia provides advice on how to achieve it. 

Emotional health

“Why would you want to live longer if you’re so unhappy?”

A lot of this chapter is devoted to Attia's long road from child abuse to therapy, but the lesson may apply to any of us.  Emotional health will affect our physical health and longevity.

[In a separate but related reference, I learned that chronic stress causes a faster rate of telomere shortening, and therefor accelerates aging.  Stress relief methods such as meditation, are highly recommended (2)]  

Medication and supplementation

The book does not dedicate a chapter to this tool.  Attia prescribes medication to patients who do not respond to the other tools.

Notes:

1.  The theory behind this book seems solid to me.  However, over the years I realized that Attia is a bit fanatic about ideas he believes are true, and more than a bit obsessive in his activities.   In the book he claims that he has reformed these tendencies.  Nonetheless, if any of the ideas or suggestions in the book seem wrong to you, feel free to further investigate and or reject them. 

2.  The Stress Prescription, by Elissa Epel, Penguin books 2022.

Purple

Two old men ride slowly into town.  They are covered in dust after the long mountain trail.  The street is abandoned.  On both sides, they see broken walls and fallen columns, remnants of formerly monumental edifices.  The loose cobblestones crumble under their tires, and the sound echoes against the bare walls. Although they see no one, they can feel eyes watching them from the shadows.  Night is looming, and with it,  danger.  At the central square, they dismount.  They hear the rumble of distant thunder, They look up.  Stars are visible in the darkening sky; It is not a storm.  The sound grows nearer and louder. The sonorous throb of large drums reverberates within their body, and is now accompanied by slow-cadence music.  A large group of men, wearing hooded dark robes, enter the square. They step in unison carrying a long and heavy wooden float. On the float, effigies of mythological figures in various postures of torture or death. Dozens of men shoulder the float, yet the strain is visible on their young faces. The two riders observe in silence. Torches are lit to illuminate the procession. Behind the float march several men playing funeral music on tubas and other wind instruments. The large drums are towed on trolleys and mark the solem beat.  These are followed by more hooded men dispensing smoking incense from swinging censers.  Out of the smoke, emerges another float.  This one smaller, carried by dimunitive pre-teen girls.  The girls are overpowered by the weight on their shoulders.  A few of them stumble to the ground, and are briskly pulled up by the adult attendants surrounding them.

OK, OK. Enough of this post-apocalyptic movie.

Kobi and I arrived in Antigua, Guatemala, unaware that it was the night before Passion Sunday.  The ruins are the remnants of an eighteenth century earthquake which almost destroyed the city.  The procession is an old tradition, and attracts many visitors.  (We were lucky to find a room.)  The little girls were not being tortured.  Their mothers were there, discreetly sharing the load.

On Sunday morning, more luck.  A flight delay, allowed me to stay in town for the main event.  The sidewalks bloomed with Mayan women wearing colorful woven outfits.  Along the procession route, locals applied the finishing touches to decorative carpets formed by flowers and colored sand.  These will be obliterated as the procession passes over them.  At last, The large float entered the city.  It was carried by two hundred men, wearing purple, the color of Lent.  On it, effigies of Jesus enacted scenes of the crucifiction.  A squad of Roman soldiers marched in front, and the bass drums and tubas followed.  Virgin Mary on a smaller platform came next, carried by veiled women in black dress. Since the procession started earlier at a nearby village, and would wind its way through the city until evening, thousands of curcuruchas (carriers), all in purple, stood in readiness to carry the load for one block. Each carrier wore a badge, designating his turn as well as his position under the float. (That's how I know their number)

The spectators were still choking the city streets when I had to squeeze my way out, barely making it to the airport taxi.

Dances with Lions

                            Happy Lunar New Year

We celebrated the New Year in a village not far from Oaxaca.  The restaurant owner is Vietnamese, the food was Thai, (I had beef eggplant)  and the friends from Mexico, Canada, and even Turkey.

Short but excellent dancing (with lions):   https://vimeo.com/791974714

Mekofef Habananot

He was here last night, I am sure.  How do I know?  Although I did not see him, I can see what he did.  And this is not the first time.  I'll explain.

I like baking bread.  I like the aroma while it's baking in the oven, the dark brown color of the crust, and the tangy taste of sourdough as I bite into the warm slice.  I also enjoy the challenge of using only three ingredients (flour, salt, water) to make a wide variety of flavors and textures.   At this time I am confronting such a challenge.  Adi likes the flavor of whole-wheat flour, so I am gradually increasing its proportion (I am at 80%).  The trouble is that more whole wheat makes the bread more dense, and I, like it fluffy.  Yes, adding more water improves the fluffiness, but with more water it is harder for the loaf to keep its shape while rising.  I forgot to mention that I keep a precise log of my experiments.  Back to the story.

A few mornings ago, I was surprised to find that a highly hydrated loaf rose fully and was nicely shaped.  It stayed that way throughout the bake.  We celebrated at breakfast.  The next day, I tried to repeat the procedure using the exact same measurements, and the result was what Adi calls a bindetok, a pancake.  Life goes on.  I reduced the water, and continued my experiments.  This morning it happened again.  Same recipe as yesterday, but with spectacular results.  The round shape of the risen loaf would have put Buddha's belly to shame.  That's when I realized that it was no accident.  Mekofef Habananot was here.  I don't know what he does to the dough, but it works.

From now on, I'll keep a sharp look out, and when I catch him, he'll have to teach me his trick.  I'll let you know when he does. 

P.S.  Adi asked me how do I know it's a "he".  For the answer, click the link below.

         Mekofef Habananot

P.P.S.  Please share your comments on the blog, rather than an email reply.

The Night Intruder

What would you think if you woke up in the middle of the night to loud bangs, rattles, and other weird noises?

"It's the upstairs neighbors again" 

Not an unreasonable assumption, they do sometimes drag furniture in the middle of the night.  I turned back to bed, but after a brief silence, the racket resumed.

Adi became alarmed.  "Is someone trying to break in through the window?"

Her sentiment was understandable given that recently, we experienced an almost-close encounter with an armed robber.  We got out of bed.

On her way to the window, Adi grabbed a miniature but powerful flashlight and the pepper-spray canister which we purchased after the above-mentioned incident.  I hardly had time to conclude my business in the toilet, when I heard Adi screech.  I rushed to her side.  She stood there silent and wide-eyed, pointing the beam towards the darkness outside.  Suddenly, a large white face appeared and moved towards us at an incredible speed.  The bird almost crashed into the glass panel, its wings repeatedly and forcefully hitting the window.  Shortly, it landed on a pipe, and was staring back at us.  It was a large owl, its wingspan more than a meter.

I should explain that the apartments in our building get their sunlight from a large  air shaft that runs from the ground to the sky.  We assumed the bird could not find its way up and out.

"I thought owls were suppose to be smart"  said Adi as we settled back in bed.  

I did not dare tell her that that's in Korea.  Here in Mexico, the owl is an omen of death.

Early in the morning the racket resumed.  I assumed the poor thing got tangled somehow, and I shuffled to the window, ready for the rescue.  I even contemplated keeping it as pet.  As I looked outside, dawn was breaking and the bird was gone.

The owl  Click this link.

P.S.  Please share your comments on the blog, rather than an email reply.

24/24

 

It took 24 hours to make, and 24 minutes to consume.  That's why only half is left.

Sour dough starter
80% whole wheat
Pecan filling (can't find walnuts in Oaxaca)
Crusted with oats.

Result:  Crunchy crust and mouth watering taste.  We like the rough texture of WW.

Next step:  100% whole wheat

Mission impossible:  Add more water for more airy crumb.  So far, the wetter dough looses its shape after I take it out of the Benetton.

Time to Eat

Recently, Doron published a photo of himself and the almost-finished guitar he is building.  Both looked good.  When questioned, he told me that his slim appearance is due to better nutrition habits.  Congratulations.  For various reasons, the subject of nutrition has been occupying my thoughts, and Doron's reply prompted me to share them in this post.

Michael Pollan, in his book In defense of food: An eater's manifesto, provides three rules for good nutrition:

Eat Food, not too much, mainly from plants.

These  concise and elegant rules describe my convictions, and I follow them, without being too religious about it.   In recent years, I found an additional rule that may not have been available to Pollan at the time of his writing.  I am convinced that the practice of Time Restricted Eating (TRE) contributes greatly to a healthy body.  Many of you already heard me say it, but on this subject, I don't mind being a nag.  So I hope Pollan won't mind if I modify his rules to read:

Eat Food, not too much and not at night, mainly from plants. 

Food

Pollan is contrasting food as obtained from nature, to processed food.  For example: steak is Food, hot-dog is not.  Obviously, there are different levels of processing, and it is up to us to define the level we are willing to tolerate.  Processed meat seems to be the worst of the lot, but anything that comes in a package is suspect.

Not too much

That's a hard one.  Some pretty solid research (See my post) shows that lack of protein forces us to overeat.  Eating enough protein reduces hunger before we gobble too many calories.  There is probably enough protein even in a plant-based diet, but just to make sure, I consume a daily (plant-based) protein supplement.  Another effective way to constrain our eating is through the practice of TRE.

Not at night

Based on his research on the Circadian rhythm, Dr. Satchin Panda is one of the early proponents of TRE.  In his papers, lectures, and books, he advocates the health benefits of such a regime.  He proposes a schedule which he calls the  "12/3", which means 12 hours without eating, including the three hours before going to sleep.  Longer TRE periods, such as the popular 16-hour TRE, provide additional benefits through the biological process of autophagy.

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Catering to my affection for organization charts (and the number Three) I expand a section of my post Searching for Happiness.   No new information.  Feel free to skip this part.

Comfort    To me, this is the basic level (See note) of contentment.  It is supported by three pillars: 

      Healthy Body    Active Mind    Love and Friendship
     

      Healthy body is achieved by:

            Good Nutrition    Vigorous Exercise    Deep Sleep

            The three rules for good nutrition:

                   Eat Food    Not too much and not at night    Mainly from plants

Note:  I realize that first, we must have a shelter to sleep, enough money for food, and spare time for exercise.  

Banchan

Who does not like Mediterranean  Mazza?  The array of salads with its wide variety of tastes and colors is a wonderful appetizer.  Adi loves mazza.  Perhaps because it reminds her of home.  Korea has a similar offering called Banchan, which are served as the accompaniment to the main dish, which is rice.  The number of small plates on the table can range between five or six, in a home-cooked dinner, to dozens in a fancy restaurant.  The dishes vary in taste between savory and extremely spicy, and their texture can be crunchy, soft, or like the marinated crab, a hybrid.  Even though Korea is a meat lover's paradise, most of the banchan are vegetables.   The appropriate complement to this meal is either beer or Makkoli, a fizzy rice wine.  The photo demonstrates the set menu ($12 per person) in a popular restaurant near our apartment.  The highlight of this meal (except for the rice), is fermented soy-bean stew, served in a searing-hot black stone bowl (Think miso soup on steroids).  Needless to say, we became regular customers.

P.S.  Do not be misled by the symmetrical setting.  Except for the fried fish, each dish is unique.  See map below.  

 1.  Mushroom

 2.  Squash

 3.  Kimchi

 4.Potato

 5.  Green onion

 6.  Fried tofu

 7.  Rice

 8.  Makkoli

 9.  Stir fried kimchi

10.  Cabbage salad

11.  Potato noodle (+vegetables)

12.  Pork BBQ

13.  Fermented soy stew

14.  Fried fish

15.  Seasoned clam

 16  Marinated crab

     17..Steamed cabbage\ 

     18. Egg fried tofu

     19.  Mountain vegetables

     20.  Bell-flower root

     21  Egg plant

     22.  Bean sprouts

     23.  Spinach

     24.  Sweet potato stalk.

Abu Dhabi: In search of a local

A visit to a different country is an opportunity to learn about a new culture.  On a short visit, an easy source for such an exchange are locals engaged in the tourist industry.  As I hit the streets of  Abu Dhabi, I quickly realized that locals are are rare breed.  In a rough sampling of sidewalk traffic, I counted about one local for every twenty other nationalities.  Emirati  men are easily recognizable by their immaculate kandura, a neck-to-sandal white dress, which seems to be the mandatory uniform.  They often wear a short trimmed beard, while the headdress is optional.  They are  slim and tall, and they glide, rather than walk, like the masters of the universe which they are, until they disappear into a waiting car.  in the many bus rides I have taken, I have not seen a single Emirati.  Emirati women are even more scarce.  They are totally covered in black, and are always accompanied by a man.  Another location for spotting Emiratis are the luxury malls, where they can be observed shopping, or relaxing over a coffee.  I am sure some of them work, but none do so in the lower  ranks of the tourism professions,  and thus, they are  not approachable to a short-term visitor like me.

Locals aside, Abud Dhabi streets are teeming with people.  Most, or 90%, according to Google, are  migrant workers who fill the unskilled, or semi-skilled labor force.  They come from all the usual places:  India, Pakistan, Philippines, and various Africans countries.  They are friendly, speak English, and seem to be happy. 

Dreams of Baja

My good friend Jim Casciani, sent me an email titled 'Dreaming and Remembering.'   Below, in his characteristic understated style, Jim describes the dream, or is it a nightmare?

Do you remember the trip to Baja with Hans, you and me?  We were flying at an altitude of several hundred feet looking for Melling Ranch.  The ranch, our destination, has a landing strip in the desert mountains, 50 miles from any paved road.  We were running out of sunlight, and became a bit concerned. Oh, I forgot to mention, we were also running low on fuel.

We could not find any ranch or airstrip. All eyes were looking. Hans was saying, "I think it is over there", you were checking instruments. You instructed me to check the RDF position which I had done only once before in my life. Hans was trying to be heavily involved from the back seat. We were getting increasingly tense. After what seemed to be a L O N G time, we spotted the dirt airstrip. 

It was in a canyon.  You make the landing-checks and go down for a landing, knowing there was little room for error.  If I recall correctly, Saguaro cactus passing 30 feet away at 60 MPH did pucker me up.  On touchdown, the recoil bounce was impressive!  Nonetheless, control was maintained.  It was great to be down.  When we were unloading, we noticed that the white running light, on the bottom of the plane, could not take the rough landing and was dangling by its wires.  

Great times.

Disclaimer (just in case I ever want to renew my pilot's license):  We were not low on fuel.

Book review: Eat Like The Animals

By David Raubenheimer and Stephen J. Simpson

The two entomologists describe a fascinating, 30-year research journey, that took them  from studying insect nutrition to postulating the cause of the human obesity epidemic.  Along the way, they performed experiments as well as observations in the wild, progressing from insects to primates (including humans).  The book is easy and entertaining.  I recommend it.

The authors invented a concept which they named Nutritional Geometry.  They concluded that many species, including humans, have more than one appetite.  In humans they count five:  Protein, Carbohydrates (CH), Fat, Salt, and Calcium.  Each appetite regulate the food intake to meet a natural target, and thus achieve a healthy balanced diet.

They discovered that in many species, the dominant appetite is the one for protein.  They named this effect Protein Leverage.  If balanced food is available, the animal will eat a balanced diet.  However, when the only available food sources are low in protein (and therefore high in CH or fat), the animal will eat more food, until it reaches its protein target.  This results in consuming more energy than necessary, and consequently becoming fat.  Conversely, if the food sources are too rich in protein, in order to hit the target, the animal will eat less, and loose weight.  The fiber content of fruits and vegetables is the one ingredient  that limits the amount of CH and fat that the animal can consumes.  Fiber physically fills the stomach till no more can be ingested.  Humans clearly exhibit the protein leverage phenomenon.  

Obesity Epidemic Thesis

1. The blame lies with ultra processed food (UPF), and its manufacturers 
2. The average target level for human protein consumption is 15% of total energy intake.  Since the 1970s, humans consumed a few percent less than this target. 
3. Protein leverage predicts that we eat more CH and fats to compensate.  The consumption data fits the prediction, and accounts for the increase in obesity.
4. When protein leverage causes hunger and a need for more food we turn to UPF. UPF is designed to be commercially successful, not to make us healthy.  As such it has the following characteristics:

• Engineered to be super tasty, it includes salt, fat, sugar, and many gruesome-sounding industrial ingredients.
• Low in protein.  Forces us to eat more. 
• Low in fiber.   Allows us to eat a more.
• Low cost (protein is expensive)
• Long shelf life.  (Fiber reduces shelf life).
• UPF manufacturers follow the tobacco industry in confusing the public regarding the effects of their products.

The solution?

Eat enough protein.  Your appetite will tell you when to stop.  As for the rest, the book recommendations fit a Michael Polan quote which I love:

• Eat FOOD  (not industrial products)
• Not too much
• Mainly fruits and vegetables.

Behavioral Advice

The book concludes with behavioral advice on how to loose weight, and data on the protein contents of various foods.

Since loosing weight is not my main focus, I will not expand on this, except for one detail:

Although the average target for protein is 15%, this number increases as we age.  Over the age of 65 the recommended target is 20%.

An aside.  The authors must have intercepted my emails.  They cite "The three pillars of health" as:

• Sleep
• Exercise
• Nutrition

Controversy

The authors conducted a very large mice experiment.  It took five years to conclude, provided lots of data which confirmed the protein leverage theory.  They observed a marked difference in lifespan between mice eating the high protein vs the low protein food. 

• Mice eating low protein foods became fat, but lived longer.  (Especially if the extra energy came from CH not fat)
• Mice feeding on high protein food, stayed slim, had better reproductive capabilities, but lived shorter lives.

The book extends "More protein=Shorter life" to human health.  This raised controversy in nutrition circles.  The main objections are that  a.  Humans are not mice, and b.  The data on humans is not yet clear.   The field of Nutrition has many religions, and this will add fuel to the already burning fires.  How fun.

 

 

 

 

Spring

 Procrastination delayed this blog by a couple of weeks.  Spring has come and with it Cherry blossoms.  By now, all that is left, are pink-lined sidewalks.