My Twisted Romance with Sugar

Plus a recipe that puts Starbucks in its place

From the age of about 10 till the beginning of my senior year of high school, I fit comfortably under that sometimes-cute-but-usually-not label of “chubby.” I’m not sure if that term is PC anymore; probably not. But when you’re giving yourself the label, maybe you don’t have to be PC. Whatever language you apply to it, the fact was that I was overweight and I didn’t like it. Back then the covers of “Teen” and “Sassy” magazines had clear-skinned models with straight-lined bodies that in no way resembled my pock-marked face or the extra waves adorning my mid-line and the ripples encircling my thighs. For years—too many years—I worked to find my way to that blessed paradise of Svelteland, but despite my brief forays into Richard Simmons, Weight Watchers, and low-fat dieting, that teen nirvana eluded me.

Then, at the ripe old age of 16, I was introduced to the concept of intuitive eating. While the idea was intertwined with a religiously toxic weight loss program that I may divulge more about in the future, this practice of “listening” to my body’s hunger and fullness cues changed my life. In the course of about 6 months, I lost about 40 pounds. And I lost it eating primarily dessert.

Yep, you read that right. I ate Reese Cups, Dairy Queen Blizzards, and every dessert offered at any chain restaurant within a 50-mile radius of my house. I had figured out that as long as I waited to eat until my body was physically hungry, I could eat anything I wanted and lose weight. And what I wanted were the very foods that I’d always been told that I couldn’t have because I was “fat” and they’d “only make me fatter”: I wanted anything and everything that contained sugar.

Fast forward 30 years and while I still practice intuitive eating, I’ve learned that ultimately what I eat is more important than when I eat. Yes, I want to feed my body when it actually needs food, but I also want to give it sustenance that heals rather than harms it. You can pretty much open up your newspaper or click on your favorite online news source most days of the week to read about the ever-growing rap sheet on sugar. From causing cancer to the main culprit in the growing epidemic of type-2 diabetes, people have more and more reasons to take a second-look (and perhaps a third and a fourth) at their sugar intake.

I happened to do just that last spring. I’d noticed that my evenings never felt quite “complete” till I’d had a few squares of vegan chocolate or a cookie from the cookie jar or a few pretzels dipped in cappuccino peanut butter. Actually, no meal felt complete unless I had a sugary treat afterwards. And eating a plant-based diet doesn’t mean all the bad actors are out of your reach. If I ignored the “whole-food” part of “whole-food, plant-based eating,” then Oreos and Twizzlers and Fruity Pebbles and the amazing vegan cupcakes from my favorite bakery were all fair game. As I worked that loophole more and more often, I felt as if my “sweet tooth” was taking over my whole body.

So, I decided to do a sugar fast for one whole day. Of course, those ideas that look so glistening and hopeful the night before can turn dim and hopeless on the day of execution. By lunchtime I was in a panic. I paced the kitchen, my eyes glued to our “chocolate drawer” (yes, we actually have an entire drawer dedicated to chocolate in our house), mumbling under my breath phrases like “a little won’t hurt” and “why the hell am I doing this anyway.” That’s when I gave myself a stern talking to. “Maile,” I said out loud, “get a grip on yourself. It’s one day. Pull it together, woman.” At that moment, somehow, some way (which was definitely Divinely inspired) I found a hidden store of resolve; I squared my shoulders and walked out of the kitchen.

By the next morning, I felt empowered...and free. I had discovered in the course of those 24-hours that I was, indeed, addicted to sugar. Up until my fast, I couldn’t imagine a world worth living in if there wasn’t dessert available to eat. That’s how small my thinking had become. With my new found empowerment, I decided to extend my fast for another day. Then another. Days added up to weeks which eventually amounted to a whole month. And throughout that time, I found that my anxiety and depression diminished and my energy level and creative capacity increased exponentially. I wanted to do this forever...

Until, well, I didn’t.

But we’ll continue that story next week.

Until then, I want to present to you a favorite autumn recipe here in the Silva-Smucker household. We love to break out this crowd pleaser on those crisp, cool nights when nothing brings more comfort than a warm mug of spiced deliciousness cradled in our hands. Everyone knows it’s officially fall when your favorite local coffeeshop (or Starbucks, if we’re honest) starts advertising their Pumpkin Spice themed offerings. If you’re trying to cut back on processed sugar like—ahem—some of us or you just want a delightful drink that doesn’t leave you feeling “the yucks” or require you to remortgage the house to treat the family, this is for you. 

In my kitchen, I let my Vitamix do the heavy-lifting for me with this recipe (which really isn’t much, maybe a 2 lb. handweight—friends, it’s a simple recipe, Vitamix or not.) I could write reams about my Vitamix, and I most assuredly will write a newsletter in the future titled, “How do I love thee, Vitamix? Let me count the ways.” But I know not everyone has a Vitamix to adore, so there’s modifications in the recipe below to fit the good ole’ standard blender. All barriers have been removed, friends, so what are you waiting for? Let’s get spicy!

“Stuff it, Starbucks” Pumpkin Spice Latte (or for the kinder souls among us, Autumn in a Cup)

4 c. unsweetened almond milk (I call for vanilla further down in the recipe, but if you’d rather use unsweetened vanilla almond milk here and cancel the call for the flavoring later, go for it)

2 c. unsweetened oat milk (“Why the two milks?” you might ask. I like not having too much almond flavor in my latte, but if that doesn’t really bother you, go for straight almond milk. Or if you like the earthiness of oat milk, just use 6 c. of that. Better yet, if there is another plant-based milk that you prefer, use that instead. This is simply the way our family most enjoys it.)

½ c. coffee (Okay, I know this sounds like a pathetic amount for all you intravenous coffee users out there, but you may remember me sharing on a previous occasion about my prima donna constitution when it comes to caffeine. The amount added here is so that I can enjoy a hint of that nutty coffee flavor without relegating myself to either the toilet or the bed for the remainder of the day. By all means, if you have an ironclad digestive system and can stomach more than this, please do.)

1/3 c. pumpkin puree (I use canned here. If all the planets and stars have aligned and I just so happened to cook an actual pumpkin, puree its flesh, and stockpile it in the freezer, I’ll use that. But whatever you do, DO NOT use canned pumpkin pie filling. That would not be good.)

8 big fat Medjool dates, pits removed (If you don’t have some kind of high-powered blender, soak your dates in hot water for about 15 minutes before adding them in.)

2 tsp. pumpkin pie spice

1 tsp. vanilla extract

This is the part in the recipe where I have to suppress my desire to write poetry about all the beautiful aspects of my Vitamix, but if you happen to have one, all you have to do is throw the above ingredients into it, turn it on high for 5-6 minutes, and you have a piping hot, autumnal beverage that will put all the wrongs in your life wonderfully right. I kid. But you will have a delicious drink to enjoy.

If you don’t have a Vitamix, you do pretty much the same thing, but instead of putting your blender on high till the drink gets warm (which will probably burn out your motor and definitely ruin your evening), just add the ingredients, blend till nice and smooth, then pour into a pot on the stove to warm through. The result is the same: autumn in a cup and wrongs righted.

Enjoy, friends!

Photo by Alexander Grey on Unsplash