It doesn’t work anymore really…the name, Macrobiotics. “The times they are a changin’,,.” And it’s time for a name change. For too many years I’ve heard how people are put off by the name equating it with an unforgiving lifestyle geared only for those who seek it from sickness. Something more in tune with the times sounding less like an affliction itself, especially with all the meds and maladies that “…you should ask your doctor about…” Something more provocative, inviting curiosity for making a change, inspiring a creative quest for a tasty, culinary exploration into a healthier lifestyle. This baby has to expand and enjoy life.

Macro-fusion maybe? Sorry George (Ohsawa) and Michio (Kushi), but the time has come to rename this Rose called Macrobiotics. It is a Rose but the name still strikes unpleasant associations in the minds of many and doubts in their hearts. Like what is it really? It’s time for IT to get with it. It’s not Japanese anymore. It should be an intimate awareness of who we are, where we come from genealogically, environmentally, our DNA from however far back we can go including all the food textures and tastes that went into our makeup from way back there to here.

Macrobiotics sounds like a disease itself, like there has to be something wrong with you. Having come across so many who are hesitant to even try the lifestyle without being sick, and with managers of cooking schools impressing on me not to use this ‘M’ word in my classes, that it scares people away, and having taught it and cheffed it for at least half my life, I’ve come to the conclusion that it needs a name change with more pizzaz and panache. The content doesn’t need changing but does need expanding…infinitely. Michio used to say that if you are healthy, happy, and can transmute anything, then anything is good. Back in the early ‘70’s we didn’t have so many chemical additives and laboratory teched food ingredients, just major sugar, so I think he would amend that statement now. The point being that if you’re healthy, go for ‘it’. A few parameters are necessary and some guidelines to follow for when you’re paying for your playing. Only fair. Isn’t that what you’re doing by taking Western meds?

Macro: all-inclusive. Biotics: in-body. By virtue of it being called ‘Macro’, it is all-inclusive – something that seems to be misinterpreted pretty much by all to be the exact opposite – micro, tiny and inhibiting. Macro speaks to all foods of all peoples of all cultures of all biological make-ups and all should be included when adopting it as a lifestyle. We are Fusing our cultural food diversity. We are not all the same with the same sized shoe. We come in a variety of shapes, sizes, and colors ancestrally birthed from many different cultural and ethnic origins. That is Macro. When I lived in the Boston Macro birthplace back in the day, learning from Michio and Aveline in the early ‘70’s, it always bothered me that that the food preparations were pretty much geared to the Japanese palette. Delicious though they were/are what about my Jewish/ Russian/Spanish roots? Within each culture there are handed down cures and potions that in themselves are pure and ‘Macro-biotic’. Nothing wrong with them. Case in point: Chicken soup is not Japanese. Did I become healthy by embracing ‘pure’ Macrobiotics in the first place? You betcha! But as with all maladies, when you are well, you stop the ‘medication’. MacroFusion, as a ‘medication’, is whole food that can morph into a lifestyle which will be all inclusive and preventative. It will no longer be only a curing regimen but will be a way of life that intrigues you, a life of delicious culinary delights that doesn’t exclude friends and family but includes them and invites them into the MacroFusion world.

All other name change suggestions will be considered, so please tell me what you think.

It was a gift from her to us and our final gift from us to her, a bonus year, although she wouldn’t have agreed. “Put me on an ice float with one day’s food ration like the Eskimos when it’s my time!” said she when still young and spicy enough to approach the inevitable closure with levity and panache, her signature approach still at the end of her almost 95 year run on this stage. My mother-in-law was a pip! One of the very last of the big time spenders and red hot mamas telling it like it was from her point of view which was, of course, the only point of view. A radio, TV, and stage actress ‘back in the day’, gravelly voiced and a fashionably card carrying Communist who was acting during the Black List (and she knew many) McCarthy era. She was that ‘never say die’, all is possible and ‘damn the torpedoes, full speed ahead’ generation, which we refer to as dinosaurs. There used to be many more, and sad to say they, too, are becoming extinct.

Yes, she was a hoot. We called her several nick names, Diamond Jim Brady was one, picking up the tab whenever possible not only just for the bravado of it regardless of affordability, but also to make it easy on everyone. Money should never be an issue. Her take was like Scarlet O’Hara’s, “… after all, tomorrow is another day”. Smoothing the way to ensure everyone should be HAVING FUN — money was, after all, just…….money. Don’t spoil the fun. No waves. She was ‘a sport’. A classy gal. Never cast a shadow on a good time because of money! It comes, it goes…but the memories, ahhh those last forever and should be happy. Let’s live!

Another name? Auntie Mame, of course, to everyone — Hariet by birth. She came by all honestly with her uncle being Sam the Horse Thief who owned the Hudson Burlesque in New Jersey and married Nell a stripper. Sound somewhat familiar? Sky Masterson, Nathan Detroit, Adelaide? The story is that Damon Runyan’s blue print for his unforgettable characters in “Guys and Dolls” was Hariet’s Uncle Sam. Larger than life, just as colorful, and cut from the same cloth. Wish I’d known him also.

No more tomorrows for Hariet now, but she did have a bonus year of unexpected tomorrows, unexpected by all doctors after several strokes and debilitating health issues at almost 95 years on her largest and most challenging stage — her life. To the end at home she was an unsinkable Molly Brown. No looking back at yesterday’s news, it was yesterday’s news after all. But as with all of us, the inescapability of the final curtain can be made easier with the best food. She herself was a gourmet chef, so there was no fooling her, no schnibbling, as she used to put it, with the ingredients: taste and quality were utmost. “And that, my dear….” is a significant reason why she was so strong to the last.

I always go on the premise that where there’s life and good food, there’s not only hope but also replenishing. What Hariet wanted, regardless of doctors or caregivers or even us, Hariet got. And I’m so happy to say that this past year, though very difficult, was one of the most loving, rewarding, instructive, pleasing, and educationally eye-opening of my life. The doctors credited her last eleven months of survival to the natural food that was prepared for her daily, and that she devoured with relish even though the choices became somewhat narrow throughout the year. Fresh and organic fare with herbs and spices that varied the taste and venue while simplicity was the standard, and basic ingredients were very often the same for several days during the week, every week. It was amazing to see what good food can do even under these trying circumstances. We had seen this before with her as she advanced in years and didn’t feel like cooking, resorting to the previously abhorrent use of frozen dinners and liquid nutrition among others or nothing at all. In a matter of a few days with organic and fresh meals, her pallor would change from ashen gray to rosy pink, as the pixie twinkle returned to her violet eyes.

Her doctor who had been so amazed with her throughout the years and loved her, as did all who came to know her, made consistent house calls, really!, always expected the worst but found her rallying, always cheerful and healthy for her condition. He applauded the food and said that that’s what probably made so much difference adding to her longevity and mental cognizance helping her to approach her destiny with dignity. Clearly, outwardly, coping with any cold reality was never part of her character (the stage, my dear, was everything), but neither did she ever want to be away from the action. We believe that being in her home, the care and love in preparation and the purity of her food helped her cope with her final reality as we witnessed her coming to terms with her deepest secrets. At the very end we all bid her “good night” and were present as she quietly drifted out of this dimension but probably bolted into the next impatiently champing at the bit for her new curtain rise. Never a moment’s rest — “roll with the punches” and “when life deals you lemons….” That was Hariet. How can you take a cruise without your own hairdresser and his lover to stage your nightly, elegant shipboard appearances so every curl, every wave, every hair, and every makeup dab enhanced those beautiful evening gown changes. Never. That was Hariet, “my dear”!

She had always relished great food and was known for demanding that chefs from around the world make their appearance at her various ports of call, after divinely devouring one of their dinners, for her unreserved appreciation when they deserved it, and their recipes — which they actually gave her. Her praises were unrestrained and genuine — as were her criticisms which were gently respectful. But either way, you basked in her glow. Eating was not just ‘eating’, she celebrated all food. Her joy was ours. We helped her celebrate to the end still glowing from her grateful appreciation of our efforts to the last.

It’s an honor to toast you Hariet, a bona fide diva, coifed, begowned, bejeweled, and utterly beguiling taking one more well deserved curtain call to our standing ‘O’! Brava!

Head to toe. First let me state: this is personal, not clinically recorded. It is my own experience which I want to share with you about how organic extra virgin olive oil has been my skin savior.

Being olive skinned (no pun intended) I took advantage of it during my 20’s and roasted my body in the rays, turning over every 30 minutes like a lamb on a bar-b-que. And I payed the price for my sacrifice.

Very severe sun poisoning several times over the years, to the extent that my skin actually bled. There’s no drama here, just the facts to make a point. No sunscreen either. I didn’t want to absorb the chemicals. (Still don’t.)

“So from the sublime golden tan to the ridiculous necessity of having to wear long sleeves and hats during the summer for years, I learned not only about how much direct sun I could tolerate even with my olive skin, but how to protect it.”

This was all before discovering a natural, whole grain/food lifestyle.

Tea baths helped, but what about long term? It took about 8 years of wearing long sleeves and hats before I could tolerate even the sun’s heat through my clothes, let alone the direct sun. I did, however, stop using bar soaps or any soaps on my skin. Reasoning: the acid would wash away my skin’s natural oils which I felt were necessary to heal and protect my skin. You know, when you run water over your skin and the water beads up? It didn’t on me. Around the end of those covered years I learned about natural foods, macrobiotics, and the idea of using natural remedies and oils inside and out. Better late than never and by now my skin was very much healed but still not replenished. I started using toasted sesame oil, but it was too expensive and limiting. Vitamin E oil was too difficult, cutting the capsules was a pain, and the oil was way too viscous. Even though these worked, I discovered organic extra virgin olive oil, less expensive, easy to apply and absorbed surprisingly fast into my skin. And a wonderful bonus was that the oiliness was quickly replaced by a smooth, velvety feel. It was as if my skin was gulping it in and couldn’t get enough. Surprisingly, if I waited a few minutes after applying it, it didn’t go into my clothes.

I was amazed. I felt I was finally quenching a bottomless thirst. Yes, I still have several visible reminders of those very, very idiotic times but they are necessary reminders. They make me very aware, very mindful of my own limitations and very grateful for a lifestyle that helped me discover a simple skin remedy that I use in my everyday cooking. No chemical creams, no harsh perfumes and it makes so much sense. Since your skin is the largest organ in your body, it definitely figures that what you eat to make you healthy inside, should also be able to be used on the outside. I want the vitamin D, so I do sun bathe very successfully now for about 4 hours a week.

For me it’s a testament to the wonders and healing powers of olive oil.

I did mention ‘head to toes’. Here’s an olive oil protein pre conditioner before shampooing: yolk of one egg, fresh squeezed lemon juice (about 1/2 a lemon), some honey (2-3 teaspoons), and about 2 Tablespoons of organic extra virgin olive oil. Mix these together in a bowl and mix through your hair till well covered, massaging into your scalp. Amounts of each ingredient will vary according to your length of hair. Let it luxuriate through for a 1/2 hour and then wash out. Olive oil is also a wonderful post shampoo conditioner for your hair — giving it a healthy, protective sheen. After washing and before drying, rub a little between your hands and fingers then pull through your hair. You’ll be amazed at the sheen and your hair will drink it up like your skin. You can repeat this even between washings. With all the car exhausts and air pollutants swirling around us, organic extra virgin olive oil will protect and nourish you head to toe.

You know your skin type. Anyone can burn. Be smart. Start slowly and don’t exceed the time. I find now that by listening to my body, I intuitively know when the time for that day is up. I never let the sun bathing get to the point anymore, as I used to, where I can here my skin sizzle. It’s not worth it. There will be another day.

One note about the tea baths: when I had a very uncomfortable or severe burn, I would throw an entire box of regular tea bags into a pot of lightly boiling water, not a large pot. You want high concentration of the tanens. I’d fill the tub with lukewarm water and then throw the full pot tea bags ‘n all into the bath water, test it to be comforably hot and then get in. The tanens work their miracle of taking the sting of the burn away. There’s no time limit here. Just relax and soak it in. When getting out of the tub, blot yourself dry. The sting should be gone. I then very gently smoothed on the thinest layer of olive oil. There’s no miracle here, it takes a while, maybe a few days but it works. There may be no need for a second tea bath. With summer sun beckoning your skin, drop me a line and let me know how you do. Oh yeah, keep an aloe plant around. It is also good on sun burns. Just cut open the long leaf arm and rub the inside over your skin. It’ll dry. However, even without burning, I recommend olive oil as a favorite everyday ‘lotion’.

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