Year of No Sugar: A Memoir
Format: PDF / Kindle (mobi) / ePub
For fans of the New York Times bestseller I Quit Sugar or Katie Couric's controversial food industry documentary Fed Up, A Year of No Sugar is a "delightfully readable account of how [one family] survived a yearlong sugar-free diet and lived to tell the tale...A funny, intelligent, and informative memoir." ―Kirkus
It's dinnertime. Do you know where your sugar is coming from? Most likely everywhere. Sure, it's in ice cream and cookies, but what scared Eve O. Schaub was the secret world of sugar―hidden in bacon, crackers, salad dressing, pasta sauce, chicken broth, and baby food.
With her eyes opened by the work of obesity expert Dr. Robert Lustig and others, Eve challenged her husband and two school-age daughters to join her on a quest to quit sugar for an entire year.
Along the way, Eve uncovered the real costs of our sugar-heavy American diet―including diabetes, obesity, and increased incidences of health problems such as heart disease and cancer. The stories, tips, and recipes she shares throw fresh light on questionable nutritional advice we've been following for years and show that it is possible to eat at restaurants and go grocery shopping―with less and even no added sugar.
Year of No Sugar is what the conversation about "kicking the sugar addiction" looks like for a real American family―a roller coaster of unexpected discoveries and challenges.
"As an outspoken advocate for healthy eating, I found Schaub's book to shine a much-needed spotlight on an aspect of American culture that is making us sick, fat, and unhappy, and it does so with wit and warmth."―Suvir Sara, author of Indian Home Cooking
"Delicious and compelling, her book is just about the best sugar substitute I've ever encountered."―Pulitzer Prize-winning author Ron Powers
have some exceptions too, number one being: as a family, we would pick one dessert per month to have which contained sugar. If it was your birthday that month, you got to pick the dessert. We had all kinds of fun with this one, and it was especially interesting to watch how our attitude toward this “once per month” treat evolved over time…but more on that later. Secondly, and inspired by Barbara Kingsolver’s book Animal Vegetable Miracle in which her family ate locally for one year, we used her
0 | Year of No Sugar arrived in Florence with my family bright and early one July morning, in a state of exhaustion that can only be described as hallucinatory. Within a day, we had mostly recovered and were fully immersed in Florence: our ancient apartment, the Ponte Vecchio just down the hill, the mazelike supermarket where you had to bring your own bags or risk having the counter girl roll her eyes at the ridiculous Americans. And it was hot—sweat running down the back of your legs
activity. Finally, late that afternoon, the girls and I, all exhausted, set out to locate and purchase the only chocolate mousse ingredient my pantry lacked: heavy cream. Dutchie’s? Closed Mondays. Sheldon’s? No heavy cream. Mach’s Market down the road? Yes! Heavy cream hiding on the top shelf behind the half and half. Score! We hurried home so I could heat up the potato pizza leftovers from the night before and concentrate on making a beautiful Valentine’s Day dessert to show my family how much
both of these birthdays, and fortunately for us, my mom and dad don’t live too far apart for that to be possible. But if you’re like me, you’ve already realized the unique conundrum this posed for us this year: birthday cake. Ah, the ever-ubiquitous birthday cake. It would foil me yet. Sooooooooo, what would be our August dessert? Dad’s birthday cake? Or John’s birthday cake? I pondered this. My brain resounded with the immortal wisdom of Highlander: There can be only one! What would we do?
earnest—as if it were being squeezed in a vice. The pie didn’t taste right either…it was just not right at all. In addition to being heart-stoppingly sweet, the texture was too…goopy. After my entire afternoon’s investment of time, I was deeply disappointed. Heartbroken. I couldn’t finish my piece. Physically, I felt awful. I lay down on the couch and, exhausted, fell asleep. It didn’t help, as it turned out, that I was coming down with a cold. Still, I wondered, have I changed so much? I had