Now you know what I’m going to say:
If it’s a fad, forget it.
And if there were ever a fad diet, Whole30 is it. It has become especially popular among young(er) people, with Facebook groups and the whole nine yards. Meanwhile, actual nutritionists and dieticians, people who study science, are clutching their heads and moaning.
I could just re-write the posts I wrote on the food-sensitivity tests for my material on this eating plan, but I won’t, because there are some additional fats in the fire (ha!) here. First, let me tell you a story:
So, this woman I know said that she had been in a town where she had lots of old friends, and a group of them decided to go out to dinner. Great, huh? And I’m sure it was. But one of the women was on a very restrictive diet, and so – da-da-da-da-a-a-a-a! – she showed up with her own food. Here she was, according to the storyteller, this very elegant, well-dressed woman, and she came with one of those insulated bag thingies resembling the ones you use for keeping a baby’s bottle cold hanging on her arm. I’m sure she must have made some sort of arrangement ahead of time with the restaurant, because they very much frown on their patrons’ bringing in food. I imagine her calling the place and saying, “Look, I’m on this diet where I have all of these forbidden items, and I’ve taken a look at your menu online but don’t see all that much I can be sure is okay for me to eat. So I will pay for a meal, but I want to be able to bring in my own food. I’ll even leave a tip. Deal?”
I have a feeling that this woman was on the Whole30 Diet, because you’re told that if you start on your 30-day journey and then you slip up even once you have to start all over again on another 30 days. What if she was on Day 28?
Let me say it once again: My purpose in these fad-diet posts is not, not, not to belittle in any way the dietary needs of those people who are truly allergic or intolerant to certain foods, or who have actual food-related diseases. And, if I haven’t already said this also or even if I have: All this food-restriction hoo-ha probably makes the lives of those allergic, intolerant or sick people even harder, because now their legitimate food issues are seen as being in the same camp as the ones that are purely . . . imaginary. Purely Gwyneth-Paltrow related. “Oh, you don’t really have to avoid gluten, do you? Can’t you make just one exception? I won’t tell anybody!” Oh yeah? Let me call you when I’m moaning in pain in the middle of the night!
So what is the Whole30 Diet, and why am I fulminating against it? First of all, it’s probably a mistake to call it a “diet,” in any sense of the word. Instead, it’s a “challenge,” that is, a short-term (30-day) set of restrictions that are supposed to “reset” your body. (Sorry about all the quotation marks.) Before I go on, let me give you the origin story (quoted here from CNBC, but I’ve seen this section on multiple sites):
“I was eating Thin Mints — I remember specifically, Thin Mints right out of the sleeve,” Hartwig says, referencing the popular Girl Scout cookie, when Dallas suggested a challenge. They would go 30 days only eating “squeaky clean” foods.
“The thing that made me a really good drug addict also makes me really good at taking on new habits,” Hartwig says. “I literally handed the Thin Mints to my friend Zach and was like ‘Cool, lets go.’
“And we did. That was the start of the very first Whole30.”
Critics of Hartwig and her material have pointed out the irony of her words about being a drug addict. She’s now as obsessed (they say) with this eating plan as she ever was with drugs. Here’s how she describes her drug habit (this from her blog):
I spent six years in my early 20’s hustling for every powder, pill and chemical substance I could get my hands on.
Wow. Props to her, to anyone, who kicks a drug habit and stays clean. I’m not in the business of raining on someone else’s accomplishments. You may remember from my series of posts on the crazy keto diet that I praised that dieter’s weight loss (here’s the link to the first one), and I also wrote an earlier article about a journalist’s substantial loss in which I praised him. It’s no small thing to lose a substantial amount of weight, and it’s an even bigger thing to get off the hard stuff and stay off. But as I write this I’m reminded of something an old boyfriend said to me once:
The worst person to counsel an alcoholic is a recovered alcoholic.
I really questioned him at the time: Wouldn’t the person who’s gone through the same horrible experience be the best to get someone else out of it? I wish I could remember his exact words, but hey! This was at least 35 years ago. He said something to the effect that a former addict is too much of a crusader, too harsh, to deal well with those who are struggling. Almost as if they’re saying, “Hey, shape up! I did it, and so can you!” And I think he had a point. Hartwig says, in what is apparently one of her most famous lines:
Quitting heroin is hard. Beating cancer is hard. Drinking your coffee black. Is. Not. Hard.
Well, okay then! Let’s all just do what you say, Melissa!
So what does she say? That for 30 days you’re going to eat only whole unprocessed foods (putting the “whole” in “Whole30”) which isn’t a bad idea as a general rule, but here’s the whole list of ukased items:
1) any and all grains
2) any and all dairy
3) any and all (okay, you can just assume the “any and all” from now on) legumes, for Heaven’s sake!
4) alcohol
5) added sugars, including artificial sweeteners
6) carrageenan, MSG, and sulfites—But (and this is my content, not Whole30’s) what about all the other possible food additives? Very, very strange, as far as I’m concerned.
7) baked goods, junk foods, or treats with “approved” ingredients—This rule is also very strange (again, my comment). Here’s the additional Whole30 commentary on this rule:
Recreating or buying sweets, treats, and foods-with-no-brakes (even if the ingredients are technically compliant) is totally missing the point of the Whole30, and will compromise your life-changing results. These are the same foods that got you into health-trouble in the first place—and a pancake is still a pancake, even if it’s made with coconut flour.
Now, I’ve said myself that I’d rather have food that honestly is what it is than food that’s masquerading as something else, but in the above case with the pancakes that’s not what is going on. You’re just making, basically, gluten- and sugar-free pancakes. They don’t sound too appetizing to me, but Melissa seems to be saying that there’s something inherently unhealthy in the very food category of “pancake.” From what I’ve read online, though, it would be perfectly okay for you to substitute cauliflower “rice” for actual rice, so why is that permitted but pancakes made with coconut flour are not?
Up tomorrow (as I’m w-a-a-a-a-a-y over my 1,000-word limit): What’s the point of these insanely-restrictive rules? See you then!