Lean mean but more protein please

I am the nth million mother in this world who is suddenly flummoxed as to how to add more protein to the diet of her gymrat kid. For one, we in the older generation are not used to breaking down our meals into tables of protein, carbs and fibre. We loved chicken then because it was occasional, and hence special. But chicken is now loved because it is protein and helps in muscle recovery soon after a workout. Or so I am told.

Rujuta Diwekar, the Mumbai-based nutritionist in an Instagram reel in April this year addressed the issue head on, which had the house divided. She said that, till the children do not cook for 4-5 people in the house, one does not have to listen to them. She ended her characteristic no-nonsense, straight talk with the flourish of baccha hain, bada hone do (he is a child, let him grow up). Comments section rippled its muscles and reminded her that India was the diabetes capital of the world because of people like her. In what is now a clearly favourite genre, one nutritionist dubs another’s claims and thus started a slew of counter reels. Poor janta, eager for muscle, unsure of protein and confused about creatine, watched the serve and volley, and went to sleep starving.

Take for instance, eggs. I grew up in a household where cholesterol kept the adults away from eggs. Then came the whites-only fad, where colorism kept the yolks away from our plates. Now I am told by my daughter, despite my high HDL, that 3 eggs for breakfast is a must. 1980s Kerala also kept coconut oil away from the counter-top, substituting it with sunflower oil and other refined mixes, till they read about Americans slapping a teaspoon of coconut oil into their morning coffee for good fat. Then came its moment of glory as a superfood and good old coconut oil was ushered back to anoint fish curry and aviyal. When I was posted in Jaipur in the early decade of 2000, one of the things I carried for the bosses from Kerala visits was coconut oil. Fads come and fade, and our medical research shift the goal posts of HDL and LDL every five years, and opinion on statin is never static.

To add to the plate of problems, there is now protein bars, protein powders and snacks that maybe good for the muscles but not great for the middle class pockets. I saw a small jar of edamame beans in my kitchen the other day that retails for nearly Rs 5000 a kilo. Roasted edamame is the latest addition to Japanese food fads after sushi and matcha. Type edamame snacks on the internet and the options are endless. Move over murukku and mathri. Peanut chikki is protein but the sugars spoiled it all. It broke the brittle back of kappalandi muttai.

Internet culture that makes ‘girl dinner’ and ‘boy kibble’ (one pot meals of meat and rice -- think a Biryani but less fancy) trending is looking for easy ‘diys’ that can go viral. They would sell the idea of having pap for food so that you are not away from the doom scrolling for too long. Enter Smoothies. Banana, oats, berries, dates, protein powder and chocolate (if you are a fan), all dunked into a blender, poured into an on-the-go-cup and sipped while waiting for the cab to work is an aesthetic few can resist. A dosa with chutney and sambar is not made for “to-go”. It forces you to sit down (if you are in MTR in Bengaluru or BTH in Kochi) or stand up (Sukhsagars of the world) but definitely pause to let the tamarind and spice kick in.

The strangest idea that I now struggle to wrap my head around is the fetish to convert a food item into its weight and protein content. An egg is no longer an egg, but complete protein of 6 grams. Also, the demonization of traditional food combinations without really talking about the elephant in the room-portion size. Rice with kadhi pakora and okra or skin soft appams with chicken stew, apart from being good as a complete meal, does something to the brain as well. That cosy feeling of comfort and feel-good. Now, I am not advocating rice on the plate to cover your face, but that age old dictum of stomach being the size of your palms cupped together may be used as a yardstick.

The fetish to collapse food into parts extends to people too. We count the red flags and green flags in a personality like we count the carbs and protein and arrive at the net value. We are slowly losing the ability to look at the bigger picture. A late reply to a text, and limerence kicks in, words like toxic float around. We are trading whole for the parts and getting used to it.

In short, can we stop walking on eggshells in the name of protein and for the sake of peace and payasam. Leave some space for joy.