I followed my gut
right past the
gluten-free,
macro-rich,
fire-kissed
grilled chicken
nesting on a bed
of quinoa, kale,
mustard greens,
and heirloom vegetables,
finished with
a delicate drizzle
of cold-pressed
lemon vinaigrette.
Past the probiotic
yogurt smoothie
expertly blended
with ceremonial-grade
matcha,
spirulina,
buckthorn berries,
and a whisper
of sustainably sourced
agave.
Past the
small-batch,
prickly pear
and pickled plum
kombucha,
artisan-crafted,
locally fermented,
served
in a mason jar.
...
and landed
on the
beef-stacked
French dip
and
French fries.
For.
The.
Win.
What My Gut is Saying
I try to eat right. I really do.
I read the food charts, keep up with the newsletters, and try to understand exactly what experts want us to put on our plates this season so we can apparently live forever. But honestly, if you spend more than five minutes looking into it, the conflicting advice makes your head spin.
One week, an expert tells you to throw out your pantry and live exclusively on raw greens and ancient grains. The next week, a very intense man on the internet is swearing up and down that plants are actively trying to kill you and you should only be eating ribeyes.
It makes you wonder what “healthy” even means anymore. If you tried to follow every piece of conflicting advice out there, you’d probably starve while standing in the produce aisle trying to decide whether the broccoli is your friend or your enemy.
Lately, I’ve had to tune out the noise. Eating well shouldn’t feel like a stressful, hyper-optimized chore that requires a spreadsheet. To me, it means eating real food most of the time, choosing ingredients that scientists didn’t engineer to survive a small apocalypse on a warehouse shelf. It should give you enough energy to make it through the day without crashing by mid-afternoon.
But the wellness crowd often misses something important: we aren’t robots. We shouldn’t just weigh and track food like a collection of carbohydrates, protein, and fat. We need to taste it, and we need to enjoy it. When we reduce every meal to a chemical equation, we lose the whole point of sitting down at the table.
A balanced life has to leave room for grace. Sometimes the healthiest thing you can do for your peace of mind is walk right past the lecture, slide into a booth, and order something warm, savory, and completely satisfying.
Sometimes… the French dip wins.
