Part 25

The expert wine tasters in Rhineland, where the full flavour of the luscious fruit is retained in the wine as Nature put it there, never drink wine. They breathe it into the mouth and atomise it on the tongue with utmost relish. To them the swallowing of the precious juice without dissipation by taste is an unpardonable sacrilege. The Bavarians also, whose beer is the best in the world, practically do not drink beer as Americans are accustomed to seeing it drunk. They sit over a stein of beer for an hour, reading or chatting with friends. The epicurean drinkers of what has been termed eau de vie in France sit and sip a "pony" of their beloved Cognac while they enjoy a view of pastoral loveliness or a throng of passers-by in a boulevard of Paris. None of these people drink anything but water and hence are not drunkards; and, at the same time, they have full enjoyment of Nature's most stimulating and delicious compounds in a form preserved by Nature for the use of man.

The taste of these students of nutrition becomes so discriminating that they can distinguish a wine or a beer or a cognac, as they would distinguish between intimate friends and strangers. The year, the vineyard, the state of the weather, or any accident that may have surrounded the development of the fruit are as distinguishable to these epicures in the essential juices as are the marks on men which indicate prosperity, happiness or any stamp of environment whatever.

An epicurean cannot be a glutton. There may be gluttons who are less gluttonous than other gluttons, but epicureanism is like politeness and cleanliness, and is the certain mark of gentility.

A physiological chemist, a friend of the author, who is responsible for the suggestion that the function of saliva in turning the starches of our food into nutritious glucose may never have been fully given a chance to act, thus accounts for the last delicate sweet taste which is attained by complete mastication. It is then a perfect solution, and hence the delicacy of the taste.

For illustration, try a ship's biscuit--commonly called hardtack--and keep it in the mouth, tasting it as you would a piece of sugar, till it has disappeared entirely, and note what a treasure of delight there is in it.

Taste will teach the experimenter more than I can even suggest. I simply offer an introduction to Doctor N. Appetite and to Doctor G. Taste and state some of their excellences that I have discovered through their attentions to myself and others under my direction.

I will, however, give a resumé of my own experience as a guide.

PERSONAL CASE, INITIAL CONDITION

Age, 49 years; height, 5 feet 7 inches. Extremes of weight for fifteen years (in ordinary clothing) minimum, 198 lbs.; maximum, 217 lbs. Chest measure, varying but little, if any, 42 inches; waist measure (tailor's) 43 to 44 inches. Usual weight during the time, about 205 lbs.

My experiments began near the middle of June, but with no systematic application until the middle of July, 1898; weight on June 1st, probably over 205 lbs., in summer clothing.

SPEEDY IMPROVEMENT

On October 10th, as a result of the experiments, weight 163 lbs., and stationary; chest measure same as before, but waist measure reduced to 37 inches, or one inch below the "tailor's ideal," and nearly down to the "athlete's ideal."

The energy and desire for activity with immunity from fatigue, which was the characteristic equipment of twenty years ago returned, but not, of course, the trained muscular strength or suppleness of athletic days.

The food invited by Appetite at this stage, the nutriment in which counter-balanced the waste in each twenty-four hours, consisted of about thirty ordinary mouthfuls of potato, bread, meat, or anything selected by Appetite, masticated and manipulated to the end.

One meal a day was taken for convenience, and because it seemed, under the then existing circumstances, hot summer weather, to be the time set by Nature for eating. "I rise in the morning," as a champion pugilist once put it, "when my bed gets tired of me," which at the time was usually before, or at, daylight, and began writing or other work. By one o'clock I usually was "worked out," but had already disposed of practically a day's work. Then, in the middle of the day, when all the animals rest and some of them chew the cud, I took my meal. I had not, meantime, experienced a moment of craving for anything since the meal of the day before, but I sat down with an epicurean appetite.

The article of food on the menu that first attracted me, I fixed my desire upon. At the time it was usually a meat or a fish, and there accompanied it only a cup of coffee, nine-tenths milk, bread and butter, and potato. Sometimes the meat selected was an entrée, and was garnished with rice and other fruits or vegetables.

About thirty mouthfuls of these, disposed of in something less than twenty-five hundred acts of mastication or other movement of the mouth, and taking about thirty minutes to thirty-five minutes, satisfied the appetite so perfectly that all the ices and desserts on a sumptuous bill of fare had no attraction.

In the meantime, water was drunk, in small portions slowly, and ice water at that, without restriction, to satisfy thirst, but not when any food was in process. In the mouth the water was almost instantly brought to body-temperature and its coolness was very agreeable to all the senses. I now rarely take any water except in very hot weather when perspiration is active and then only enough to quench thirst, excess giving discomfort and necessitating more perspiration. Water injures digestion by being taken with meals only because it is used to wash down food not yet prepared for the stomach. It is the unfit food that is carried down by it and not the water that does the harm.

One cup of café au lait, well sweetened, sipped and enjoyed according to the epicurean method, satisfied all desire for other sweets and created a harmony of variety that was simply perfect, while it was perfectly simple.

I did not try to work, or think, for some time after the meal; that is, I did not force thought; but reading, a cat nap, a walk, a matinée, a ball game, or a ride in a trolley car were recreations which I was able to enjoy as a sort of pousse café for two or three hours after the meal, and then the energy for work returned, so that if there were something yet to be done in the time before the accustomed bed hour, another day's work was easily accomplished.

Athletic work, physical labour, extreme activity in any form, all benefit by the same treatment, as I have since been able to prove both personally and by experiment with others. The only difference is the greater waste of tissue, and the greater need for restorage, demanding an evening meal and possibly an earlier midday meal.

Exercise, work, activity--anything that creates a demand for nutriment is the especial friend of Taste. It gives healthy appetite and hence there is plenty for Taste to do and he likes to be of service.

At first, rules have to be followed in order to serve Economic Nutrition to the best advantage, but they soon become habits of life, or living, that will naturally come of themselves from attention to Taste according to these directions.

It has been our experience, that if there are any diseases growing out of overstraining of the lower intestines, kidneys, liver, etc., they will soon disappear.

Perfect nutrition does away with the waste until there will be no invitation to discharge oftener than once in four or five days, when the response will be easy and final, with less than half the quantity of an ordinary daily contribution.

There are wealth, health, strength, long life, abundant usefulness and much resultant happiness offered as a reward for learning and following Nature's Perfect Way.

When we learn that obeying Nature's Laws emancipates us from the slavery to cravings of unnatural appetite, releases us from constant attention on meals, does away with at least half the drudgery of woman's work and makes us immune from the attacks of microbes of disease, it is then no hardship to take a few lessons in the Art of Economic Nutrition.

Every artificial method that has been suggested to coax Nature into changing her problems to suit man's poor interpretation has failed, but Nature has been patient withal. Her door to reform is never closed, and her patience is boundless towards prodigal and foolish children.