In 2010, my father died of a fatal heart attack. Oh hey! Before I get into all of that, I should give you the proper hello. Welcome to another issue of Recipes & Random-Ish. I’m LA from the Bronx and I am a plant-based advocate. That means I’m really rooting for people who want to find new ways to add more fruits, grains and vegetables to their plate. It’s been proven that we can use food in the war against diabetes, obesity, heart disease, inflammation and more. In these weekly posts, you will always find a recipe and some tidbits of information about me and my world. Why? Because that’s how I vibe and I wanna build a community.
Now back to my dad. He was a smoker. I mean like three packs a day since he was a teen. But he also belonged to a bike riding club, drank coffee and sang off tune to his favorite jazz songs. Yep. No one is just one thing. He was also a carnivore. I mean steak, chicken and pork anytime he could get it. When I was a carnivore, I tricked him into eating a Turkey Burger. He was mad. But he ate it anyway.
I don’t really have any memories of him eating vegetables. I’m straining my brain to see if there is a memory of him even eating a salad. I know that he drank water when he went bike riding. Well I hope it was water in those water bottles because rum was actually his beverage of choice. Lol.
Back in the long ago days of the early 2000s, I had zero awareness of heart health. I saw the Cheerios commercials just like everyone else but there wasn’t a connection for me. I assumed my dad went for regular checkups. From time to time he’d mention a dental appointment or that he was getting his glasses fixed but that was it. We never talked about his heart. We never talked about his lungs. We certainly never talked about his diet.
It’s insane to me how many times a year I go to see my cardiologist. After launching Black Girls Eat, I have learned so much about the foods that clog your arteries. I am hyperaware of things like plaque and calcification. Sometimes I think to myself, “Who are you?” I see the Cheerios commercials now and I get it. I didn’t know what a heart healthy food was and now it’s all I think about.
Men in my life have come a long way and many have rejected the stereotype of being the guy that doesn’t go to the doctor. I know so many men who know how to make healthy food choices. My husband is one of them. So is my brother. But my dad was old school. Beef, potatoes, coffee and alcohol.
My dad was a risk taker. Five minutes in his car and you knew that. He survived Viet Nam by taking the lead on all excursions. That means he would go out ahead of the troop to determine if the route was safe. His mindset was that he didn’t want to die because of an idiot who didn’t know what was what. His exact words. So he chose to be the point person so that if he was killed by the enemy, he could only blame himself.
I wonder if he ever had any kind of heart scan? Did he know that his heart was at risk? Knowing my dad, if he received any kind of report that meant he would have to take medicine or alter his lifestyle, he would have ignored it. It’s true. He lived on his own terms and so on one fatal day in August of 2010, his heart attacked him and he didn’t survive.
My awareness around food as medicine came about 5 years after his death. So I often wonder if he would have let me grocery shop for him. I think I would have created lists and put them on his fridge. Not subtle but not too pushy.
Trust me when I tell you that I would have used all that I have learned to help him change the way he was living. Ok..who am I kidding? What I mean to say is that I certainly would have tried!
The Recipe: The Paloma
We love making Paloma’s during Father’s Day Weekend. It’s the only time we break out the grapefruit soda. The drink was either named for doves (Spanish translation) or according to legend…it was named for the love of Don Javier, the Mexican barkeep many claim created the tasty beverage. It’s the only way that tequila, grapefruit soda, a squeeze of lime, and a dash of salt make sense for me!
The Random: I’m Afraid of Walking Over Bridges
Yep! I have gephyrophobia. I can’t even pronounce it but there it is. Recently, I tried to walk over a bridge as a shortcut to go home and I froze right in the middle of the bridge. Did I mention that there were cars on my left and water right underneath me? I was so stressed.
My mouth was dry. My vision got blurry and my legs were weak. Thankfully, I was on the phone with one of my best friends and she literally kept talking to me and encouraging me to keep going. The minute I got to the end of the bridge, everything went back to normal. It was like nothing ever happened. Random huh?
Thanks for spending time with me. Thanks for subscribing. Thanks for letting me share the Recipes and the Random. Take good of yourself and of those men in your life. Follow me on Instagram @blackgirlseat — Love ya!