Better late than never and the 9 stages of Hanger.

I know, I know. It's Thursday, and I failed to name a VoW and the superfood of the moment yesterday for Wicked Wednesday. However, this week's superfood is so seriously awesome, that I couldn't stop myself from dedicating an entire post to them. Medjool dates: if they were a man, I'd throw away everything and run away with them. Okay, maybe not, but I might marry them one day.

I realize that I'm getting a little ahead of myself. (I do that from time to time. Unbeknownst to most, despite my potentially calm exterior, my insides are usually tearing along at breakneck velocities most hours of the day.) Before the hero comes the asshole, so I need to get to the Villain of the Week first.

I need to preface this declaration of VoW with a little background. I truly believe everything is all about perspective. We choose to see things as they are and think the way we think. We choose how to interpret everything, whether it be a book we read, a bit of conversation with a friend, or even the slightest facial expression on a passing stranger's face. We choose whether we want to cast things in a positive light or a gray cloud of pissy. You can train yourself to change perspective. You just have to want to do it.

Things happen, though, that sometimes cloud our perspective. Doing big miles every week often leaves me hungry at any given point in a day. A tiny hunger pang won't shift my perspective, but once I get to the point of no return, I am overcome with what some refer to as hanger. Hanger = hungry + anger. One who is hangry is suffering some a state of irritability or frustration resulting from operating in a prolonged state of hunger. Once I become hangry, nothing can stand between my food and me. If I am behind the wheel, road rage ensues, and I become irate with anyone not driving 10mph faster than the general flow of traffic. Stop signs turn into yield signs, and yellow traffic lights turn a florescent green. If I've just run, there is no question that a shower is coming after dinner. In fact, there is absolutely nothing that cannot wait until after dinner. The downward spiral of the progression of hanger are illustrated here:

                

Stage 1: Hunger strikes in the form of current thought/activity being interrupted by a tiny hunger pang.

Stage 2: Hunger pang grows and subsequent thoughts of food become louder.

Stage 3: Thought/activity is slowed by increasingly frequent thoughts of food.

Stage 4: All internal processes are haulted and all available information processors are overcome with hunger pangs and food thought. 

Stage 5: Hanger victim becomes crippled and internal processor in danger of  overheating. Emergency situation.  Victim becomes irrational and possibly dangerous.

Stage 6: Hunger oblivion. Victim becomes delirious, completely unable to process any thought at all. The body is much like a nosediving 747 without a pilot. 

Stage 7: Victim is a shell of original self. Oblivion ensues.

Stage 8: Ability to process thought slowly returns, but all internal processes are hunger pang-driven. Victim  may become very volatile and uncooperative.

Stage 9: Victim is essentially reborn with the sole purpose of obtaining food.

Note that all food thoughts do not have to be cake-related. The Mac Paint illustrations are the brilliant handiwork of the super hysterical author of Hyperbole and a Half. This entry is one of my favorite blog entries, um, ever. You see, once I enter stage 9, my perception of reality becomes greatly distorted.

Yes, I'm rambling, but I arrive at my point here: the Villain of the Week. There is a woman down the hall from my office in the Research Tower who, I am fairly sure, possesses telepathic powers. Every time I go out to the 2nd floor microwave to thaw my morning smoothie, she manages to arrive seconds before me and nukes her tupperware of rice and vegetables (not frozen, mind you) for an eternity of six minutes. The six minutes ensures that (1) I am forced to make the impossible decision: do I stand there forever with nothing to do in order to maintain my spot in line or go back to my desk and multitask for the next five and a half minutes, risking another nuker hopping in front of me in the que? (2) my hanger progresses a minimum of two stages and (3) any nutritional value that was previously in those vegetables is long gone by the time she takes her first bite which is surely delayed due to the inability of the human mouth to tolerate such extreme temperatures.

I am good at maintaining good external composure during these situations, however, the internal fire that rages when I walk out just in time to see her index finger hit the automatic cook 6 button can be  summed up in the following:

Onto the hero: dates are a superfood, but maybe in a different sense than say kale or chia seeds. I wouldn't hesitate a second to chomp down a handful of dates as they are (minus the pit) but a handful of raw kale doesn't quite get me all hot and bothered. I use them in everything. They're wonderful chopped over a salad, used raw in my Alo bites, subbed in as a binder in baked goods, and date paste is my first choice for sweetener. I could rant forever about the evils of refined sugar and other artificial sweeteners like Equal and Sweet & Low, but I will save that for a completely separate day.

Four medjool dates contain almost 7g of fiber and are a hot source for electrolytes. One serving contains almost half of the recommended daily allowance of copper which helps combat anemia. It's a lovely assistant for making red blood cells. God knows I love those. 13% of manganese and magnesium and 15% of your daily potassium come in a serving, too. Boom. Take that, Gatorade. I packing a powerful B-6 punch, these little candies of nature are an anemia shield.

Date Paste


Ingredients


6-10 oz hot water
8-10 oz medjool dates

Fill a jar or glass with about 6 oz of piping water, and add your dates. Soak the dates for 15-20 minutes. I like to use a 16 oz. jar and fill slightly less than halfway with water, then add dates until the jar can't hold anymore material. Remove dates from the water, reserving the liquid, and add to a blender. I prefer to throw the dates in the food processor first to help the process along, and then add to the blender. Gradually add the date water and blend on high speed. Add water a tablespoon at a time to achieve the desired consistency. I like the consistency of my paste to resemble that of applesauce. Add to smoothies, baked goods, or spoon on top of coconut ice cream or soy yogurt.