Tag: fat

  • SMART FAT: The Book.

    SMART FAT: The Book.

    If you work at Whole Foods, sooner or later someone is going to ask you about Smart Fat. And I, for one, think that’s a very good sign.

    My book, Smart Fat: Eat More Fat, Lose More Weight, Get Healthy Now (co-authored with Steven Masley, MD) is about to drop (January, Harper Collins), and soon we’ll be seeing a virtual tsunami of books capitalizing on the term. Already, one famous nutritionist is re-publishing an older book that advocated for higher fat diets and has put “Smart Fat” prominently on the cover of the new edition. Another A-list nutritionist we know of is rushing to get his high-fat book out quickly, and there are sure to be more to follow. The concept of Smart Fat has arrived, and I want you to learn what Smart Fat means, right now, right from the horse’s mouth.

    Full disclosure: Sometime after our book went to press, an old physician friend of mine sent me a link to a long out-of-print book called Smart Fats that had indeed been published years ago, but that neither Dr. Masley nor myself had ever heard of that book when we wrote—and titled—our new book. So for all intents and purposes, we invented the term Smart Fat for modern times, and I’m actually glad that so many distinguished writers and nutritionists are picking up on it because, as you’ll soon see, it’s a very useful term to have.

    See, at one time in the not so distant past, we all believed that fat was bad and that low-fat diets were the key to health. Then, we slowly realized that not all fat was bad. Some fats—for example, fish oil and olive oil—seemed to be really healthy. So, we modified our old-fashioned demonization of fat in general, and came up with the notion of “good fat” (i.e., vegetable oils) and “bad fat” (i.e., trans fat and animal products).

    Well, that was then. This is now.

    You could, I suppose, think of the notion of “smart” fat as a much-needed update to the old, outdated notion of “good fat” and “bad fat.” The new way of looking at fat still recognizes that some fat is “good” and some is “bad,” but those categories are defined very differently.

    It doesn’t matter whether a fat comes from an animal or a vegetable. The only thing that makes a fat “good” or “bad” is whether or not it’s toxic. Toxic fat is bad—regardless of its origins. Some of the worst fats are the ones we’ve been told are terrific for us, and some of the best fats may turn out to be precisely the ones we were wrongly told to stay away from.

    Let me explain.

    In any sentient being—humans, animals—toxins are stored in adipose tissue (i.e., the fat cells). Fat cells are storage central for any toxin that gets into the body and doesn’t get excreted. When you raise cows on a factory farms—also known as CAFOs (Concentrated Animal Feeding Operations)—here’s what happens. The cows are fed massive amounts of antibiotics to fatten them up and to keep them from getting sick due to their poor diet and crowded conditions. They’re fed steroids and hormones (like bovine growth hormone). They eat grain—an unnatural diet for ruminants—and it’s grain that’s been sprayed with every kind of pesticide and chemical you can imagine.

    And guess what? All of that stuff winds up in the fat of the animals. And on your plate. And in your body.

    The fat of those animals is a toxic waste dump. And it has absolutely nothing to do with whether it’s saturated or not—(about half the fat in beef is actually monounsaturated)—and it has nothing to do with whether or not it came from an animal.

    I live in Southern California and we’ve had a couple of E. coli scares, traceable to contaminated spinach. But no one in their right mind thinks spinach is a “dangerous” food—everyone understands that a particular crop was contaminated by outside sources. The contaminated spinach was recalled, end of story, everyone can eat spinach and no one thinks it’s bad for you.

    Yet the situation with toxic fat is exactly like the situation with spinach. Animal products aren’t bad for you because they’re animal products, any more than spinach is bad for you because it’s a vegetable. Animal products, just like vegetables, are only bad for you when the animals are contaminated. Which is exactly what they are when they’re raised on feedlot, factory farms—and this goes for chickens and pigs as well as for beef.

    The fat from grass-fed animals, however, is a whole different story. Grass-fed animals—and pasteured pork, and free-range chickens—are raised on their natural diet. Cows are free to roam on pasture and chew on grass. They don’t eat an unnatural diet of grain. Chickens peck at bugs and worms and insects (good sources of omega-3). They’re not fed antibiotics. They aren’t fed hormones. Their fat is higher in omega-3 and lower in inflammatory omega-6. When I order grass-fed beef from Whole Foods or a farmer’s market, I never ask for the lean kind, because there’s no reason to. There’s nothing toxic in that fat at all.

    Our book divides fat into three categories—Smart, Neutral and Toxic. Toxic fat is fat from animals that have been raised on feedlot farms. Toxic fat is man-made trans fat. Toxic fat is damaged fat—like canola oil that’s been used and re-heated many times at a fast food restaurant. And—although vegetable oil per se is not necessarily toxic, most of it is highly processed and refined, very high in inflammatory omega-6, and, in the quantities we consume it, not very good for us. (Contrary to the old definition, vegetable oil isn’t always good fat, and definitely isn’t “smart” fat!) Saturated fat, on the other hand, is completely neutral when it comes to promoting heart disease. And in some cases—like coconut oil or Malaysian palm oil—saturated fat actually has some benefits.

    When we made the bone-headedly stupid mistake of banishing fat from our diets, we lost one of the best sources of energy on the planet, and replaced it with sugar which is at the heart of every major epidemic that has a nutritional component (diabetes, obesity, Alzheimer’s, heart disease, fatty liver disease). We removed sources of calories with significant health benefits (i.e. fish, olive oil, nuts, avocados, grass-fed beef, free-range chicken, eggs, whole-fat yogurt, coconut oil, Malaysian palm oil) all in the hopes of attaining some elusive health and weight benefits believed to accrue to a low-fat diet.

    It hasn’t worked out very well.

    My hope is that our book is a harbinger of a whole new way of thinking about fat. Fat is our friend. It helps balance our hormones. It keeps our brain healthy. It provides amazing energy. It keeps us full. It’s vital for absorbing critical vitamins  (A, D, E and K) and other nutrients (carotenoids).

    The old way of thinking—“good” fat= vegetable oil, “bad” fat= animal products—is woefully out of date. It’s about time we started looking at fat as something which- -when used the right way—has the potential to transform our health for the better.

    Combined with the right amount of flavor, plenty of fiber, and liberal use of anti-inflammatory and antioxidant spices, the Smart Fat eating plan is one that has the power to change your life.

    Posted on WholeFoods Magazine Online,

    By Jonny Bowden, PhD, CNS aka “The Nutrition Myth Buster”™

  • Understand Brain Chemistry to Burn Fat & Beat Cravings

    Understand Brain Chemistry to Burn Fat & Beat Cravings

    A new study in the journal Trends in Endocrinology and Metabolism shows your brain finds cheap, high-calorie foods especially rewarding.

    Researchers here studied brain activity to better understand how your appetite works and, more importantly, how your brain associates reward with the foods you eat.

    As you might guess, brain chemistry is an incredibly complex science, and every piece of the puzzle can help in scientists’ understanding about obesity.

    “[T]here has been great interest in looking at the brain for the source of vulnerability to overeating in a world of cheap, abundant, high-calorie food,” said researcher Dr. Alain Dagher. “As a result of this research, differences between lean and obese individuals are starting to emerge.”

    Dr. Dagher discovered obese people have brains more “activated” to sweet foods. So eating a bowl of Chunky Monkey ice cream would be more rewarding than, say, a bowl of Brussels sprouts.

    Studies like these help scientists better understand brain signals that motivate you to overeat and how different things – edible or not – stimulate reward areas in your brain.

    What I want to focus on is how anticipation fuels your brain’s reward mechanism and your tendency to overeat.

    To better understand this, I want you to recall memorable events in your life. Maybe it was a first kiss, or a big vacation, or an exquisite five-course dinner at a Michelin-rated restaurant.

    Whatever pleasurable activity you recalled, I’ll bet the idea of doing those things actually provided your brain more euphoria than doing them.

    Don’t get me wrong. That kiss or vacation or dinner certainly provided pleasure, but anticipation offers its own gratification.

    The same thing happens with food. Anticipating eating certain foods and actually eating these foods involve separate mechanisms in your brain.

    Let’s say you’re at the mall, you’ve just had lunch, and you pass by one of those gourmet cinnamon bun places. Even though you’re hardly hungry, the wafting smell instantly makes you think I want a cinnamon bun…

    Suddenly, everything else – finding a bargain at the Gap, for instance, and trying to figure out what color towels to buy your aunt for her birthday – takes a backseat to that craving.

    Your anticipation to eat a hot cinnamon bun plays a key role in your desire to overeat.

    A brain chemical called dopamine contributes to this process. Dopamine controls pleasure and aids your brain’s “reward circuitry.”

    There’s nothing wrong with dopamine and anticipation. It’s how we evolved as a species, after all. But problems arise when you associate pleasure with the wrong stimuli or when the system breaks.

    At that point your reward circuitry becomes hijacked, your “enough!” switch becomes blunted, and addiction is all too often the end result.

    Ultimately, that hot cinnamon bun fails to satisfy. Even though it doesn’t taste great, you find yourself visiting the mall much more often to get your fix.

    For some people, a hot cinnamon bun is a one-time enjoyable experience. But if every time you visit the mall you immediately think hot cinnamon bun, the reward connects to the substance.

    Two things happen. You strengthen the association between the cue (hot cinnamon bun) and reward (that dopamine blast). And the cue itself (the thought or sight of a hot cinnamon bun) ignites dopamine circuits, where you have little control over your behavior.

    Dopamine is what fuels your drive to get that hot cinnamon bun when it feels like nothing else will satisfy you, and when you certainly know you don’t need (or even want) it.

    Pair that cinnamon bun with a powerful emotional stimuli—say, wonderful memories of your grandmother baking them—and those powerful associations release so much dopamine that your reward circuits become hijacked.

    Next time you notice a powerful craving for something sweet, stop and become aware of what’s going on in your brain. Is the anticipation of eating it more rewarding than actually eating it?

    Then determine if something else would equally satisfy you. Maybe take your dog for a long walk in the sunshine, for instance, or a hot bath.

    Chances are, once you engage in that non-food activity, the craving will dissipate.

    And even if it doesn’t, you’re one step closer to understanding your brain mechanism to curb your overeating.