You Are What You Eat: Diet and Reproductive Fitness

I think a lot of people have heard the aphorism, “You are what you eat.”  I agree.  The thought is that if one overeats, one gains too much weight.  If one doesn’t eat healthily, one is unhealthy.  Okay, fine.  I admit it.  I don’t always listen to the wisdom contained in the above aphorism.  Yes, I understand that if one eats too much, one can wake up as a diabetic.  Yes, I understand that diabetes is linked to premature deaths due to nasty things like coronary artery disease, peripheral vascular disease, renal failure, etc.  I understand that unhealthy diets are linked to other nasty things like cancer.  Fine.  We get it, right?  But, that’s not what this blog entry is about.  I believe people tell you a lot about themselves when they choose a meal or a drink.

 

Reproductive fitness is a concept in evolutionary biology that describes the ability of an individual to pass on his or her genes to the next generation.  It’s generally looked at in the following way.  Does a certain trait make an individual more likely to have mating success or to have live offspring in the next generation?  Does Brad Pitt’s attractiveness to a large segment of the female human population make it more likely that he will have offspring?  Does Angelina Jolie’s attractiveness to a wide segment of the human male population mean that she’s more likely to have reproductive success?  The concept of reproductive fitness is all about passing genes on into posterity.  What is the relationship between dietary choices and reproductive fitness?  Well, I think those intellects ruled wholly by science would argue that one has to make healthy choices in one’s diet to have reproductive fitness.  I’m sure those intellects would believe that the healthier one’s body, the healthier one’s reproductive system, and the more likely one will have live offspring who can transmit DNA further into posterity.  Understood.  I’d like to turn that thinking on its head, though.

 

My aunt once told me that she knew that her late, first husband was The One, because they liked to eat the same things.  I completely understand this point of view.  I believe that food and life are equivalent.  I believe that you are what you eat, but not in the way the phrase was meant to be used.  What I believe is that a person will telegraph who they are when they choose a meal or a drink.  It’s very revealing.  It has been written and said that a person’s appetites for food may reflect their appetites in the bedroom.  What I think is meant by that is that if one revels in the sensual pleasures of great eating, one will probably revel in the sensuals pleasures of—well—the bedroom.  Personally, I think that viewpoint underestimates the power of using a person’s food choices as a litmus test, because it refers only to the bedroom.

 

I believe that the compatibility of a pair’s taste in food says a lot about the potential of that relationship to produce offspring in this modern world.  So, in a way, it’s not diet per se that decides a pair’s reproductive fitness.  It’s compatibility.  People who are compatible when it comes to food, I believe, are more likely to be compatible in other ways, and therefore, they’re more likely to stay together.  People may have an image of Republicans as alcohol-swilling steak eaters.  Some might imagine a Democrat as an ascetic, tree-hugging, vegetarian whose idea of a naughty indulgence is a veggie hot dog.  One might imagine a Republican as a person who takes whole milk in his or her latte.  The same person might imagine a Democrat as one who takes a healthier approach with skim or soy in their double decaf latte.  While those preconceived notions may be untrue, I still believe that if two people agree on food, they’ll agree on a lot of other things.  If they agree on a lot of things, I believe, they’re more likely to stay together.  I’m sure you can see where I’m going with this.  The Carl’s Jr. hamburger chain ran an advertising campaign stating that “If it doesn’t get all over the place [like their burger], it doesn’t belong in your face.”  I have similar thinking.  If we can’t agree on what we just ate, don’t expect me to ask for a(nother) date.

 

I’m pretty sure the following people are stereotypes whom I’m not going to want to be with for the long haul.  Here they are in no particular order.  (Disclaimer: Yes, I know these are oversimplifications and stereotypes, and that I’m an awful person for not giving people a chance.)

 

1. The woman who only drinks white wine.  She’s problematic for me, because I need variety in my food and drink.  I can’t imagine this woman to be an adventurous eater.  If a person’s first move is Chardonnay, I’m immediately suspicious, but I’m waiting to evaluate what she orders for food.  I’m betting she’s a picky eater.  Personally, I’m more adventurous than that.  I’m often looking for something new.  I’m looking for a partner to share the pleasures of the food that I like.  I want a playmate.  I don’t think that Ms. Chardonnay and I will find much common ground.  I don’t see us getting along as playmates.  I imagine she’ll want to play one game she always plays, and I’ll want to play another new game.  We could be sometime playmates as friends.  I can’t imagine her as my best friend with whom I’d want to play for the rest of my life.
2. The woman who orders the same thing every time she goes to a particular restaurant and has no particular need to order anything else—ever.  The problem I will face with this woman is going to be the same as the one faced with Ms. Chardonnay.
3. The woman who thinks of dessert as the best part of the meal.  I’m not that kind of a guy.  To me, dessert is the period to the sentence.  The real meaning of a meal is, for me, in the sentence itself.  To me (to use a desert analogy), is merely the cherry on top of the sundae; I’m in it for the sundae.  I have no interest in eating the cherry first; I feel the cherry should be eaten in the context of the rest of the sundae.
4. The vegetarian or the woman who says she doesn’t eat meat even though she doesn’t self-classify as a vegetarian.  I’m a carnivore.  What can I say?  I still need a playmate.  If a woman’s not up for ribs at a barbecue event, I think we may have a problem.
5. The person who doesn’t eat seafood.  Yes. They’re out there.  I imagine that the person who isn’t up for either a sushi/sashimi extravaganza or lobster with black bean sauce is not for me.

 

Okay, fine, I admit it.  I’m lumping women into various categories that are oversimplifications.  Sure.  I don’t mean to castigate women for their food choices.  One might feel that I’m judging books by their covers, but I allow women the freedom to eat whatever they want.  I’m not saying people who don’t eat the same things I do are bad people.  All I’m saying is that I’m looking for a playmate who wants to play the same games I do.  I just think that a compatible playmate when it comes to food will be more likely to be a compatible partner when it comes to other things.

 

I know a vegetarian, whom I find exceedingly attractive.  Blonde and green-eyed—Guinevere we’ll call her after the titular character mentioned in the Crosby, Stills, Nash and Young song—has a beautiful face and remarkable figure, in my mind.  She’s one of the most beautiful women I’ve ever seen.  I can’t imagine us together, because I’m a carnivore.  We’re not going to be able to play the same games together; we’re not going to be able to share in the pleasures that I find in eating.  I just can’t picture it.  So, I appreciate Guinevere for the nice, warm person she is and for her beauty, and that’s all.  Guinevere isn’t going to be able to share in my gustatory games, in my life.  Umami—the  Japanese word for savory and delicious tastes found in meats, cheeses, broths, stocks, and proteinaceous foods—will, I imagine, mean nothing positive (and probably a lot of negative things) to Guinevere.  To me, it means everything—as far as food is concerned, anyway.

 

In my journey through life, a particular dish holds a special meaning for me.  I’m a lover of lechon, or what a Filipino or a Puerto Rican might call a roast pig.  Personally, I prefer the variety made on the Philippine island of Cebu.  I also prefer Cebuano mangoes to those found elsewhere, but that’s a topic for another blog entry.  Anyway, lechon is all about the umami.  I’m all about the umami.  The best lechon, I think, is from Cebu where my father grew up.  Here’s a little look into what goes into a Cebuano lechon.  This recipe was sent to me by my friend James from the following source: http://www.extra-rice.com/best-taste-cebu-lechon-recipe/

 

Prepare:

One whole pig (about 20 kilograms)

Salt

Black pepper

Soy Sauce

 

Lechon Stuffing:

5-10 bundles of lemon grass (tanglad)

20 pcs. Banana (saba variety), peeled then halved or

20 pcs. Taro (gabi), peeled

 

1. Clean and prepare the pig by removing innards, washing and scraping the body of bristles.  Rinse and allow to drain a bit before stuffing.
2. Rub with salt and pepper inside and out.
3. Rub soy sauce on the skin of the pig.  This will make it nicely red when roasted.
4. Stuff the belly of the lechon with lemon grass along with saba and gabi.  Sew to close.
5. Skewer the pig and split roast over live charcoal or traditionally, in somparts of Cebu, under live fire.  Roast until crisp.
6. Cebu lechon is not served with a sauce, but if a dipping sauce is requested, vinegar with scallions and pepper may be served along with it.

 

I’d like to find a playmate who’s into umami.  Lechon is a game that Guinevere isn’t going to want to play.  If a playmate asks me to eat steak or ribs with her on occasion, I think she may be able to share life with me in the fullest way.  It’s a start, anyway.  The search for a soul mate is a quest to find someone who shares the same attitudes in life, someone who is on the same wavelength?  Aren’t those good building blocks for a lasting relationship, for the reproductive fitness of a particular pair bond?  My journey of a thousand miles starts with the first step of finding someone who appreciates the umami as much as I do.