WHEN I KNOW BETTER, I DO BETTER
Maya Angelou, my wonderfully wise mother-sister-friend, once said, “When you know better, you do better.” Well, I thought I knew all there was to know about losing weight. Over the years I’d interviewed every expert, I’d tried every diet. For one brief moment, back in 1988, it seemed like I’d found the secret: After a four-month liquid diet (which is a nice way of saying: fast), I practically leapt onto the stage of my show to reveal my brand-new body in a pair of skinny-minnie Calvin Klein jeans. To prove the point, I hauled out a little red wagon loaded with actual fat representing the pounds I’d starved myself to lose.
And then—no pun intended—I fell off the wagon. As of course I was bound to do, I started eating again. I lied to myself. I broke promises to myself. I beat myself up. I let myself down. I felt like a spectacular failure. And the worst part was, I did this over and over again. My lowest moment came the year I was afraid to win an Emmy; I couldn’t stand to think how fat I’d look to all the pretty soap stars in the audience if I had to waddle up to the podium. It didn’t matter that I’d be wearing hand-tailored couture. In my mind, to my shame, I’d be dressed in fat.
If Maya were here right now (and as I sit writing this, I like to believe she is), I’d say, “OK, if anyone knows better when it comes to dieting, it’s me. So how do you explain my endless struggles with weight? Why is it that with all this experience and information, I haven’t done better?” My guess is she’d probably smile and, in that commanding voice unlike any I’ve ever heard, she’d say, “Well, my dear, when you’re truly ready to know, you will.” And as usual, she’d be absolutely right.
You can tell yourself to eat less and move more, you can cut down on carbs (so long, lasagna) and salty snacks (goodbye, Mr. Chips), you can practice portion control and begin the day with a balanced breakfast—at this point we all know the drill. But it’s one thing to be able to recite the rules of dieting, and quite another to fully internalize and know the truth of maintaining a healthy weight.
The reality is that for most of us, diets are a temporary solution at best. They last as long as our willpower holds out. But how long can any of us hold our breath before we need a gulp of air? I’ve fallen into every trap, from “The diet starts first thing Monday morning” to “I’ll have the cheeseburger and fries—with a diet soda, please.” Yes, I’ve made every excuse in the book. The most recent: when I hurt my ankle while hiking in the wrong shoes. Afterwards, I couldn’t exercise enough to burn even one calorie. But rather than just be extra vigilant and eat extra sensibly, here’s what I told myself: “You really should get back to protein shakes. Skip breakfast. Skip lunch. Avoid alcohol. Enough with the carbs. Do a cleanse.” Which quickly morphed into: “I’m on vacation, though! I have a house full of guests. We’re serving a buffet for breakfast. And it starts with pancakes and cronuts and bacon. But it’s true that I have to make better choices. I know! I’ll choose the turkey bacon … and maybe just a jalapeño cheddar cheese bagel and one scoop of scrambled eggs with truffle. And some melon, because melon is super healthy, and…” Try that for a week with minimal physical exertion and I’m here to tell you, it’s a half-pound-a-day weight gain, easy.
Left: Maya Angelou always had a home-cooked meal, an honest assessment of every situation, and a warm embrace waiting for me.
Middle: Me, my Calvins, and that infamous wagon of fat turned out to be iconic television. But if I had it to do again—I wouldn’t!
Right: Winning the Emmy in 1992 was a professional high point. Unfortunately my weight was also at a high point.
My all time favorite place to be is quietly under a tree. I sit every day in praise and gratitude for all life’s blessings.
That’s where I was in the summer of 2015 when Weight Watchers called. Seventeen pounds beyond my already steadily overweight weight. And yes, you read that right—Weight Watchers actually called me!
For years, my daily prayer had been, “Lord, what should I do next? I’ve tried everything already. Twice.” So I not only took the call from Weight Watchers—I decided to take it as the answer to my prayer. The call came, and I was ready to listen. Something inside me shifted. The need to see a certain number on the scale, to wear a specific size, had somehow fallen away and released me. How exhilarating to suddenly think I might be able to stop being a slave to yo-yo dieting, that I might be able to live freely and independently, eating the way I chose in order to fuel my life! I could be free from the burden of stressing out over what to eat next, free from the guilt of regretting what I’d just eaten. Somewhere buried beneath the decades of trial and error—the seesawing between fat and fasting, feast and famine, the shame and fear and frustration—was a belief that I could find balance and satisfaction with food without having to declare war on myself. I dreamed of detente, of eating with pleasure, ease, and maybe even a hint of joy.
“AS LONG AS I CAN REMEMBER, I’VE BEEN THE KIND OF PERSON WHO WANTS TO SHARE THE THINGS THAT MAKE LIFE BETTER.”
I know now that losing weight and keeping it off will never be about dieting and deprivation, shaming and guilting yourself. My friend Marianne Williamson was right when she wrote me a letter saying that you have to change the way you think, not just about food, but about the whole of your life. Getting real relief from the burden of extra pounds requires what another friend, Bob Greene, tried to teach me years ago: In order to wake up to a new way of eating, moving, and being with yourself, you must first recognize that you deserve to be healthy and you’re worthy of being loved. You have to be willing to give yourself the best care you can, every day.
These are ideas that demand a new consciousness.
For me, more than anything, that means really feeling what I feel. No more masking or avoiding my anxiety—or anger, or sadness, or fear of confrontation—with a bag of chips or a handful of nuts. For most of my life, emotional eating has been my negative behavioral hot button. I’ve only recently learned to process and not repress with food whatever I’m experiencing that’s uncomfortable. All the years when my regular routine included taping at least two and sometimes three shows a day, people would ask how I managed the stress, and I’d say, “I don’t feel stress.” I never felt it because I ate it. Just the slightest inkling of discomfort—a phone call I didn’t want to make, an encounter that might result in a less than pleasing outcome—would have me reaching for something salty or crunchy, and feeling immediately comforted and soothed. Unwanted emotion triggers unwanted behavior.
Now, I’ve learned to do so much better. I not only feel what I feel—when appropriate, I speak it out loud. When I have to make a hard decision, I lean right into it, rather than procrastinating and burying stuff that later shows up in my thighs. For sure, it’s a new way of being.
This new consciousness extends to how I eat—and this is where Weight Watchers has been so helpful. It’s a really effective tool for being more aware of the food I put on my plate and in my mouth. It’s not a diet. You can eat anything you want—and I do. I use the point system like a game (for more information on the Weight Watchers point system go here). I get 30 points a day to play with as I like. The healthier my choices, the more plays I get.
As long as I can remember, I’ve been the kind of person who wants to share the things that make life better. When I come upon something useful, something that brings me pleasure or comfort or ease, I want everyone else to know about it and benefit from it, too. And that is how this cookbook came to be. It’s part of my life story—the lessons I’ve learned, the discoveries I’ve made—told through food. The most important discovery: that it’s possible to come to sane and sustainable terms with eating. That you can master the food game with points, nutrition, and above all, deliciousness. Because if what you eat is just mediocre, it will always leave you wanting.
Many of the recipes that follow are from the wonderful chefs I’ve been blessed to know and work with over the years. I make a lot of these dishes myself, to feed my family and friends; for me, there’s nothing better than having the people you love gathered around the table for a home-cooked meal. These are the dishes I’ve served for major celebrations and for no reason at all. I hope you’ll enjoy making them, savor eating them, and delight in sharing them. Because what I now know for sure: Food is supposed to be about joy, not suffering. It’s meant to nourish and sustain us, not cause us pain. When you eat consciously and well, you feed your body and your spirit. And that makes all life more delicious!
Cheers to your
health, happiness, and
conscious enjoyment!