THAT’S THE WAY THE COOKIE CRUMBLES (5 page)

Not all of the e-mail I received on this issue was of a scientific nature. Alex Constantine, who writes prolifically on aspartame, became involved in the correspondence between me and Betty Martini, and he offered up this bit of wisdom: “Joe Blow [he means me] works at McGill University, once the most active hive of mind-control experimentation in the world and still very involved with the CIA. He writes for
Reader’s Digest
, a CIA publication. A professional prostitute on the CIA payroll. A fascist collaborator who smears antifascists for fun and profit.”

I will certainly continue to monitor the aspartame story closely. The fact that so many people believe it to be harmful and claim benefits when they give it up is interesting, albeit anecdotal. Science, however, often starts with anecdotal evidence. But this must progress to proper, controlled studies. And while, without a doubt, some people do experience adverse effects, these studies, to date, do not support the allegations of a worldwide epidemic of “aspartame disease.” Let’s allow the facts to speak. As Mark Twain quipped, “The worst kind of ignorance is the things we know for sure that just ain’t so.”

I’d like to take a look at Papa Bear’s blood test. His triglycerides are probably high from slurping all that honey, but his cholesterol level is likely to be just fine, thanks to his love of porridge (ref: Goldilocks). In fact, all the members of the Bear family, with their penchant for oats, can serve as nutritional role models. I, for one, am following in their footsteps. And I’m managing to keep pace with science.

The Scots got this one right. Porridge is one of their staples. Scotch oats are steeped not only in water and milk, but also in a good dose of tradition. I understand that the mush must be stirred clockwise, with the right hand, using a “spurtle,” which is a sort of wooden stick especially made for this purpose. And the porridge is to be eaten from a birch-wood bowl. “Porridge sticks to the stomach and scrubs out the bowels,” the Scots maintain. True enough. Oats really do have a high satiety value. Essentially, this means that they take a long time to digest and therefore keep you feeling full longer. Indeed, in a study comparing oatmeal to cornflakes as breakfast foods, researchers found that subjects who ate oatmeal consumed one-third fewer calories for lunch. So, oats can help you lose weight.

The bowel-scrubbing bit makes sense too. In more ways than one. Oats contain fiber. Fiber is the structural part of plants, grains, fruits, and vegetables; it cannot be broken down by enzymes in our digestive tract and therefore cannot provide nutrition. In other words, most of what you eat turns into you, but fiber passes through. There are two kinds of fiber: insoluble and soluble. Cellulose is the classic insoluble fiber, whereas pectin, found in fruits, is an example of the soluble variety. The former keeps us regular, reduces the risk of diverticulitis, and helps eliminate substances that may play a role in colon cancer. But it is beta glucan, the soluble fiber in oats, that is causing a stir. Solid research has shown that while oats produce no nutritional miracles (no single food does), those who consume them regularly can experience these benefits: lower blood cholesterol levels, a decrease in high blood pressure, healthy arteries, and better diabetes control.

Some of this information about oats is not new. Just think back to the oat bran craze of a few years ago. Retailers couldn’t keep the stuff on the shelves. Rumors of a new shipment sent anxious shoppers rushing to the supermarket, only to have their hopes dashed when they found that the booty had already been snapped up. Why was there such a feverish interest in a product traditionally considered animal feed, not human food? Because some tantalizing studies showed that oat bran, the outer covering of the grain, is an excellent source of soluble fiber, which has the ability to reduce cholesterol. Some researchers offered a theory to explain how this happens. Beta glucan absorbs water in the intestine and forms a viscous slurry that traps cholesterol from food as well as some of the bile acids needed for digestion. Since these compounds are made in the body from cholesterol, their removal from the digestive tract forces the body to synthesize more. The result is a depletion of the cholesterol in the blood. Good stuff. But there was a problem. The public never got the proper message about how much oat bran they would have to consume to create an impact on their blood cholesterol levels. And this was no small amount.

To reduce blood cholesterol by roughly five percent, a person needs to eat three to four grams of beta glucan a day. More is not better. At higher doses, one experiences a sense of fullness; bloating and gas production become apparent. Now, a five-percent reduction doesn’t sound like a lot, but it can lower the risk of a heart attack by as much as ten percent. We can find this amount of beta glucan in one cup of cooked oat bran, or one and a half cups of oatmeal.

Three packets of instant oatmeal will do it too. But oat bran cookies, oat bran chips, and oat bran gum will not. Yet manufacturers flooded the market with these silly products, hoping to capitalize on the oat bran mania. The products had no effect on cholesterol, and they tasted lousy to boot. Little wonder the oat bran fad faded quickly. Too bad. Because, when consumed in the right quantities, oats really do deliver the goods. They can do more than just lower cholesterol — they can reduce blood pressure.

A pilot study in Minnesota focused on a group of patients who took at least one medication for hypertension. Researchers asked half of them to consume about five grams of soluble fiber per day in the form of one and a half cups of oatmeal and an Oat Square (an oat-based snack); they asked the other half to eat cereal and snacks with little soluble fiber. Oat consumption reduced blood pressure in these patients significantly. Indeed, about fifty percent of them were able to give up their medication. How oats lower blood pressure is not clear, but it probably has to do with modifying insulin response. The pancreas secretes insulin, which enables our cells to absorb glucose from the bloodstream after a meal. A glucose surge triggers a quick insulin response, but if such surges are frequent, insulin becomes less effective, and the body needs to produce more and more. This leads to a condition known as insulin resistance. Researchers suspect that such insulin resistance plays a significant role in elevating blood pressure by constricting blood vessels. Soluble fiber slows the absorption of nutrients from the gut and blunts the insulin response. This also explains why oats can help diabetics control their blood sugar levels.

And if that weren’t enough to boost your appetite for oats, just consider that oats contain a unique blend of antioxidants, including the avenanthramides, which prevent LDL cholesterol (the bad cholesterol) from being converted to the oxidized form that damages arteries. So, it isn’t hard to see why I’ve become a real oat fan. And I’ve become an even bigger fan since I discovered “steel-cut oats.” These are oat grains cut into thirds but not rolled into little flakes by a machine. They have a great nutty flavor. Admittedly, they do take longer to cook and require constant stirring. That’s why I’m searching for a good spurtle. If you’ve got one, I’ll trade you for my oat soup recipe.

Ah, heck. I’ll give you the recipe anyway. Bring twelve cups of chicken stock to a boil. Add six sliced carrots, three sliced parsley roots, one cup of peas, one cup of diced onion, two tablespoons of canola oil, two tablespoons of soy sauce, two mashed garlic cloves, and two cups of rolled oats. Simmer for forty minutes and add salt and pepper to taste. I bet even Baby Bear would love it.

You should have seen the face of the guy behind the counter in the Manhattan bagel shop when I asked for the smallest, thinnest bagel they had. In a country where excess rules, where the credo is “bigger is better,” my request must have come as a shock. But I really needed that thin bagel to save a lecture I was about to give at Columbia University.

The focus of my lecture was on some interesting everyday applications of chemistry, and I wanted to start with a demonstration of how acrylic plastics can make our lives less risky. Dr. Mark Smith, head of emergency at George Washington University Medical Center, had made headlines across America by going public about a “great underreported injury of our times”: cuts resulting from bagel slicing. Anyone who has ever risked a mangled hand by trying to slice a bagel in half knows exactly what I’m talking about. Luckily, inventors have risen to the challenge and have come up with a variety of devices to ensure that a perfectly good bagel isn’t ruined by splattered blood. I had even found one that I really liked. It was a clear acrylic box that held a bagel snugly and had slits down two sides to guide a knife. Not only does it prevent injuries, it also protects bagel lovers from another great scourge — a smoke-filled kitchen. This is what happens when the bigger half of an unevenly sliced bagel refuses to pop up after we’ve squeezed it into a toaster slot that is too small.

My proposed demonstration of scientific bagel cutting obviously required a victim, and I planned to order that victim at breakfast. Alas, what they brought me was a gigantic roll with a hole in it that looked more like a life preserver than a bagel. I realized that I had a problem. There was no way this thing would fit into my bagel cutter. That’s when I ran to the bagel shop and made my unusual request. No shortage of bagels here, but all were as obese as my original. And then, as I stood there frustrated, the door to the back of the shop flew open, and I caught a glimpse of what was going on. Employees were sending raw bagels through a steaming machine.

They weren’t boiling them, they were steaming them. That’s when I decided that New Yorkers didn’t need to learn about acrylics. They needed to learn about bagel making.

Montreal is the center of the bagel world, because here we do it right. For just 180 calories and virtually no fat, you get splendid flavor, unique texture, and a dose of history. According to legend, in 1683, King John Soviesky of Poland helped save Vienna from Turkish invaders. A grateful Viennese baker created a stirrup-shaped roll to commemorate the bravery of the Polish soldiers. In a German dialect, this roll came to be called “beugel” — meaning “ring,” or “bracelet” — because of the large hole in its middle. “Beygel” was the Yiddish version of the name, and from this it was only a short hop to “bagel.” The bagel was introduced to North America by Jewish immigrants about a century ago, and in Montreal some of their descendants are still delighting customers by producing bagels in the traditional fashion. There’s nothing like the smell and taste of a fresh bagel straight out of the oven. Try the bagel challenge. I defy anyone to buy a dozen and still have a dozen by the time they arrive home. Cannot be done. Not even by someone reared on sliced white bread.

To make this gustatory and health marvel, you don’t start with just any flour; you use a flour that is rich in two proteins: glutenin and gliadin. These long, coiled, tangled molecules unfold and line up in long strands when kneaded with water. They also forge cross-links with each other, building a network of proteins known as gluten, which gives dough the elasticity it needs to rise as yeast generates carbon dioxide gas. The baker adds a small amount of sugar to the dough to serve as food for the yeast, along with a little egg for color and flavor. Kneading is critical, because it creates the air pockets into which the carbon dioxide will expand. These air cells will contribute greatly to the final texture. Furthermore, oxygen in the air, introduced during kneading, strengthens the gluten by promoting a chemical reaction that forms sulfur-sulfur links between adjacent protein molecules.

What makes a bagel a bagel, however, is neither the flour nor the kneading. It is the immersion of the hand-formed rings of dough in boiling water prior to baking. Starch molecules in flour are coiled together in tiny granules, but hot water penetrates the granules and causes them to swell. Then the swollen granules muscle their way into, and strengthen, the molecular scaffolding created by the gluten proteins. A classic chewy bagel is the result. Furthermore, the boiling water is not just any boiling water. The baker must dissolve a little honey in it. That’s because, in the heat of the oven, sugars in the honey combine with proteins in the dough to form the shiny brown crust prized by bagelites.

Ah, the oven. You can’t make a proper bagel without a wood-burning oven. The smoke enhances the flavor, and the burning wood provides just the right temperature. During baking, gluten coagulates, and starch completes its gelatinization. If the temperature is too low, the dough will expand as the volume of the trapped gases increases, but it will then collapse because the gluten and starch have not set. If the oven is too hot, the setting takes place too soon, and the dough does not gain enough volume. It’s a touchy business that needs an expert hand. A Montreal hand.

What I saw in New York was not a pretty sight. I saw dough being steamed instead of boiled. I saw electric ovens. I saw jalapeno peppers, chocolate chips, and — believe it or not — bacon bits added to bagels. But even this sacrilege did not prepare me for what I was to see in the frozen food section of the supermarket into which I dashed, hoping against hope, to find a bagel that looked like a bagel. Staring me in the face was the “UnHoley” bagel. It looked like a hamburger bun filled with cream cheese. No hole. No class.

By this time, I was getting desperate. I was frustrated by bagels that had no holes and others that were like king-sized doughnuts with rigor mortis. I had one last chance — Zabar’s, Manhattan’s most famous food store. No proper bagels here, either, but Zabar’s did have something to save the day. An adjustable bagel cutter. It was polyethylene, not acrylic, but I just adjusted my talk accordingly. Thank goodness for American ingenuity.