Friday, March 27, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Teyla Branton, Author of the Unbounded Series



On the day I set foot on the path to immortality . . .

One minute Erin Radkey was in a burn unit without possibility of recovery and the next she awakes in a coffin covered with a gelatinous substance, her body perfectly healed. You might ask: Is this some remake of a vampire series?

The answer would be no. Erin has joined the ranks of Unbounded, nearly immortal beings whose quick regeneration is aided by the fact that they can absorb nutrients through their pores instead of having to ingest food. They can process organic matter and food molecules from the air without even thinking about it. Better yet, their bodies absorb only what they need.

Think of it! That means no more hunger pains, and for the most part no gaining weight—unless you really work at it, because not only is their metabolism off the charts, but regeneration takes a lot of energy. (Aside note: Since Renegade Unbounded are in a desperate battle with an evil faction of their own people over control of the mortal world and are also hunted by the only mortals aware of their existence, there happens to be a significant need for regeneration.)

How would you like to never worry about food again?

Well, the Unbounded in my urban fantasy still eat because, let’s face it, eating is fun. Just like the rest of us, they eat when they’re sad or worried or celebrating. But for those who previously loved to drink, their metabolism no longer permits intoxication. Even the strong stuff only gives a momentary buzz.

Then there’s the matter of the only way they can be killed and the whole locked-away-in-a-sealed-tomb issue, but we won’t go into that.

Here’s an excerpt where Erin uses what she absorbs to help her get out of a tight spot. Or does she get out?

With a growl, he launched himself at me, tumbling me backwards. I kept waiting for a miracle, for one of the others to save me, or for my so-called Unbounded talent to kick in and tell me what to do.
Nothing.
Sitting on my stomach, my assailant punched me hard in the face. Fury burst through my fear. I’d been burned practically to death, lost my best friend, held prisoner, separated from my family, trained till my arms bled, and finally rejected by a man who’d claimed to love me. I wasn’t going to let myself be kidnapped by a twenty-something idiot I didn’t even know.
I feigned semi-consciousness but was really absorbing nutrients from the grass I laid in, the trees looming above, the air I breathed. My assailant came to his feet, dragging me with him. In seconds, I’d be in that car, all hope of escape gone. There were no convenient rocks or heavy sticks nearby to use as a weapon. But there was the car.
Faking a stumble, I grabbed at him and used my body to ram him into the car . . . 

Would you choose to absorb nutrients like the Unbounded if you could?

Thanks for having me! Love to have you drop by my website and say hi.


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Teyla!



You can find Teyla here:








Teyla Branton grew up avidly reading science fiction and fantasy and watching Star Trek reruns with her large family. They lived on a little farm where she loved to visit the solitary cow and collect (and juggle) the eggs, usually making it back to the house with most of them intact. On that same farm she once owned thirty-three gerbils and eighteen cats, not a good mix, as it turns out. Teyla always had her nose in a book and daydreamed about someday creating her own worlds. She is now married, mostly grown up, and has seven kids, so life at her house can be very interesting (and loud), but writing keeps her sane. Teyla writes urban fantasy (Unbounded series), paranormal romantic suspense (Imprints series), and science fiction (Colony Six series). She also writes contemporary romance (Lily’s House and Finding Home series) and romantic suspense under the name Rachel Branton.

Friday, March 20, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome L.M. Bryski, Author of Blood Chill



Would you like a coffee?’ Sonny asks Dr. Bhaima in Blood Chill as they sit to discuss a case.

How many conversations begin with an offer of a drink? Innumerable.

All over the world, we pause and bond over coffee, tea, or any other beverage. There’s usually a personal choice stated as we prepare to enjoy time together.

‘I’ll have a dark roast, two sugars, a pinkie width of milk.’ ‘Green tea, decaffeinated, with lemon.’  Sometimes, a donut is added. Iced and glistening, the sugary temptation waits beside our mug on a round white plate, silent witness to our ritual.

Then conversation begins. Or continues. We listen. We talk. We share. Sips of coffee add commas and pauses to our words.  Bites of bakery punctuate occasional open-mouthed laughter. It doesn’t truly matter what we’re eating or drinking. It’s partly an excuse to indulge in time together. The comfort of the ritual is what’s important: we serve nourishing conversation, spending time with each other.

In Blood Chill, the ritual of food, drink, and conversation comes when characters need a moment to pause and connect. In their world, a pandemic has already occurred. They have been through the rinse cycle of uncertainty and disease. They’ve come out the other side, still a community, connected and caring. Their society is still bonded, supportive, and sharing.

We’re headed into uncertain times in our current world. A virus threatens our way of life and how we approach each other. Social events and places feel riskier now. We look askance at any cough we hear. People think about social distancing, and prepare for possible isolation. We worry that the very thing sustaining us – human connection – is becoming dangerous.

Instead, we should make sure connection with each other isn’t lost. Our mental health relies on being part of a community, sharing and enjoying conversation. ‘It’s just coffee,’ and yet it’s not.

In the days ahead, remember to keep connections. Remember to reach out, listen, and talk with each other. Remember to share thoughts and feels, how life is going, and how the day has been. Modern times has given us the means to keep in touch, face-to-face as well as by text, email, and apps. Come what may, we will still spend time together, sharing moments of laughter and fun. We will stay connected. We will always have coffee together.


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Lisa!


You can find L.M. Bryski here:






Friday, March 13, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Yvette Calleiro, Author of The One Discovered




Every writer pulls from his/her experiences and/or imagination to create stories. Depending on the genre, the percentage of each varies. As an author of the young adult paranormal series, Chronicles of the Diasodz, I pulled strongly on both.

My characters are Diasodz (DIE-uh-sodz). They are beings that spend their first 18 years as humans. Then, after a transition (of sorts 😉 ), they transform into Diasodz. Some of them inherit powers and tattoos that allow them to call upon a weapon. All of them live longer lives and can move between two worlds. Their purpose is to heal and protect humans, though most of them abandoned their purpose centuries ago.

There are two levels of Diasodz: the Altorus (warriors) and the Curatus (healers). Liana is one of my characters who is a Curatus. She has a connection to the earth and grows herbs in her own garden. She uses herbs, minerals, and various stones to help heal others. It was important to me to have a character like this because I am a strong believer in natural medicine. Whenever I don’t feel whole, I turn to holistic medicine first to try to ease my ailments. It’s only fitting that my characters feel the same way.

Diasodz have lived for centuries, so they were around when food was really food, before the artificial flavoring and the GMOs found their way into our stomachs. And so, they are healthier eaters than most humans. They stay away from sodas and fried foods. Every meal has fruits and/or vegetables as a main part. That’s not to say that they don’t enjoy food. They absolutely do. In fact, meal time is seen as family time, a time to reconnect. One of my favorite scenes in The One Discovered is when Sofia and Angel are sitting in front of an ice cream shop, and Angel reveals his powers to her.

My series begins with Angel and Ar’ch coming to Earth to find Sofia, who they believe is the savior who can prevent their kind from fading forever. Of course, Sofia doesn’t necessarily believe them. A few scenes take place at TGIFridays, where Sofia works as a server. In fact, those scenes truly show Sofia’s inability to control her attraction to Ar’ch (and his desire for her).  I chose this restaurant because I have great memories of hanging out with my family and friends there. My sister was a server for many years (at a different restaurant) so I knew enough about the job to write about it, and the restaurant was the perfect scene to have Ar’ch reveal himself to Sofia.

Throughout the series, my meal scenes play an integral role in shaping the characters and in plotting their next mission. Whether Damiana is sipping her chocolate martini while intimidating Liana in a dingy bar or Sofia is curled into Rafe as they watch a movie and eat popcorn, food finds a way into the scene. Who is Rafe, you ask? I guess you will just have to find out in The One Discovered (free on Amazon). 😉



Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Yvette!




You can find Yvette here:




Thursday, March 5, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Angela Silverthorne, Author of Cries of Mercy



Bring It All To The Table

These words rang true all my life. Coming to the table was an event.

I grew up in Georgia with an Irish grandmother and a Cajun grandfather. I could leave the blogpost here and many of you would laugh wholeheartedly. Each grandparent full of fire and stubbornness.

But at the table, all was laid aside except enjoying the tempting food – Southern fare and Cajun heat. I would salivate all day as spices and herbs filled the house and overflowed past the open windows to the swing set.

During the winter and spring, Southern fare graced the table. Root vegetables, greens, cornbread, and rich stews. But the summer and fall heated up with fresh seafood from Louisiana. Jambalaya. Ètouffée. Curried shrimp.

More important than all the delectable food was what coming to the table meant. It meant the richness of the food would overflow into satisfying conversation – the kind that makes you feel welcomed, wanted, and loved.

It was these concepts that I wove into my life as an adult and later into my novels. I wanted my children and grandchildren to know the depth of talk-enrichment. In my writing, it became second nature to offer this to my readers – bring it all to the table. Your joy and sadness, questions and answers, hurt and heartaches, imagination and humor, and often your weakness and disillusionment with life. It all spilled out and over a heart offered cuisine.

No one ever left the table hungry. No one ever left the table feeling alone. We brought it all to the table, our appetite and our need to connect with the deep, strong roots of family.

For many of my characters, getting this opportunity to share and revitalize their heart and spirit was a life changing experience. I understood. Bringing it all to the table has always been my offering to the feast. A time to fuel up heart, mind, and soul.


Thanks for stopping by and sharing your food for thought, Angela!



You can find Angela here:




Friday, February 28, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Eichin Chang-Lim, Author of The LoveLock



As a prelude, let's define the meaning of "food" for this particular post.

Food is anything, and everything that you input into the opening cavity in the lower part of your face, that travels through the long tube of the esophagus, and that reaches the pouch in your tummy called the stomach!

Please remember that nutritional value is not a concern here.

**

So, the story began with Dylan saying, "Hey, Cheetos," calling her by the nickname that always made her toes curl.

Cheetos? 

Why does Dylan fondly call Violet "Cheetos"?

Their love and profound connection started during those tumultuous days, at the tender young age when they leaned on each other to endure the turmoil in the hospital when beholding their loved ones drifting away. Savoring the salty, spicy, crunchy Hot Cheetos eased Violet's sorrow and soothed her nerves. And Dylan understood immensely how much Hot Cheetos meant to Violet.

On that particular morning, Violet was about to give her twin sister bone marrow, in the hope of reclaiming Amber's health from rogue leukemia. Dylan brought Violet a bag of Hot Cheetos—her favorite! He playfully and intimately called her "Cheetos" to comfort her. She cherished it!

Death snapped Violet's sister and Dylan's mother away eventually.

The two families lamented the loss of their loved ones in their own distinct ways. Violet and Dylan thus disconnected from each other in their adolescence until they reunited in the first year of college. Their rekindled love led to a deep relationship.

"Happy New Year, Cheetos!" Fireworks exploded above them as the clock struck midnight. Dylan grabbed the back of Violet's head as they shared a passionate kiss. They're blissfully engaged, and all the preparations were ready for the eagerly anticipated marriage.

Yet, fate played a cruel joke on them. The brutal tragedy ripped them apart just days before their wedding. They went their separate way again!

Cheetos and OxyContin?

Violet was an aspiring actress. Her dream of being a film star was trashed when mental illness gripped her on the movie set. To resolve her imminent financial crisis, Violet became a stripper.

Each day, before the same old dog and pony show, she took a handful of OxyContin—her favorite ritual.
"I'm not taking drugs!" she said, consoling herself. "These are just painkillers. Plenty of people take these daily. Doctors prescribe them all the time. I'm okay."

The crunchy Flamin' Hot Cheetos numbed her tongue, the comforting warmth of the OxyContin washed over her guts, and the light sensation lifted her up. She floated away from reality. The news of Dylan's marriage crushed her. She needed to flee to a faraway realm, and Hot Cheetos and OxyContin were a fantastic combination!

Cheetos, OxyContin, and whiskey?

The hopelessness imprisoned her. The depression grabbed her like a giant hand from the underworld, dragging her down to the abyss. Nothing was left for her!

Violet purchased a small exercising sandbag from a sporting goods store, along with a couple of pairs of ankle and wrist weights for good measure. She also had half a bottle of cheap cooking whiskey. She packed them into an overnight bag with her beloved OxyContin and hot Cheetos.
Intoxicated and emotional, Violet had made up her mind.

With a single-mindedness, Violet drove toward the San Diego-Coronado Bay Bridge.

She twisted open the whiskey bottle and took several hot gulps. The burning sensation rushed down her esophagus into the pit of her stomach. She topped it off with a handful of Oxy. The floating sensation arrived . . . and she was ready. Let the final act begin!

**

No! Life is way too precious for her to end it that way!

THE LOVELOCK is a multi-award-winning love story. There are many dark moments and despaired emotional battles interwind through the characters. Nevertheless, the end is uplifting and inspirational.


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Eichin!



You can find Eichin here:





Thursday, February 20, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Lisa Black, Author of That Darkness




Forensic specialist Maggie Gardiner and homicide detective Jack Renner don’t eat much, because unlike me, they have nice, fit, svelte figures. Unlike me, they are able to resist ice cream, chocolate in any form, and Fritos. Unlike me, they are too busy with work…some might say obsessed…to pay much attention to what they eat or would like to eat. Very unlike me.

But food plays a significant role in their first outing, That Darkness. It begins as Maggie examines an unidentified female in her early teens, discovered in a local cemetery. More shocking than the girl’s injuries—for Maggie at least—is the fact that no one has reported her missing. She and the detectives assigned to the case (including her cop ex-husband) are determined to follow every lead, run down every scrap of evidence. But what Maggie finds will challenge everything she believes about justice, morality, and the true nature of evil.

Jack Renner is a killer. He doesn’t murder because he savors it, or because he believes himself omnipotent, or for any reason other than to make the world a safer place.

When the girl’s captor/killer also turns up dead, Maggie runs down every fiber and stain and clue, including gastric contents. When I worked at the coroner’s office I hated gastric contents. Give me buckets of blood, air filled with lead and primer residue, dye stain and acetic acid and swabs of unmentionable body fluids all day long, but nothing struck the ick factor like gastic contents. And our examination couldn’t even be considered particularly scientific: we simply rinsed off the liquid and took a magnifying glass to the rest. Does that look like tomato to you? I think it’s a sliver of tomato.

This becomes important, because of the kind of killer Jack is. He doesn’t hate the uber-criminals he dispatches. He knows they’re just a product of their environment, so he sits them down and listens to their stories and treats them to their favorites--which includes ordering in from their favorite restaurants. And suddenly, through the examination of their gastric contents, he finds Maggie on his trail.

Food matters, in all sorts of ways!


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Lisa!




You can find Lisa here:


















Friday, February 7, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Jeri Cafesin, Author of Disconnected



Ever had a blind date?

While women are worried the guy is a psycho-killer, most guys are worried the woman will be fat.

I’ve always had a…complicated relationship with food. I grew up in the 70s and 80s, when heroin addict thin was trending chic. My mother’s favorite actress was Audrey Hepburn, because she was, “So beautiful and thin!” The perfect woman when I was a kid had a 36” chest, a 24” waist, and a 34” hips. A 24” waist is a size 2, in women’s clothing. How many women do you know who wear a size 2? Not me!

As a writer, food plays a huge role in every story I weave. Often, as in my novel memoir, Disconnected, it’s a main character. Rachel sought what most women did—to be successful, married and in love, have healthy kids. It was hard enough attracting a man when she wasn’t heroin thin like most Hollywood women. But in the 1990s, finding a man wanting an equal partner instead of an arm piece, a woman beside him instead of behind him, seemed the impossible dream.

Then along came Lee…

And Lee was an overweight, weed-addicted gambler, who devoured food like he did most of life. Modeling Rachel’s father, Lee ate every meal as if it were his first, and last. He took her to great new restaurants, and late night cafes where they got intimate over fritters and pies. Flattered by his interest, and enamored with his charm and wit, she indulged with him. But Rachel was always fighting her weight, mindful of every calorie she ate. And it didn’t take long for her to figure out they’d be a train wreck together. But by the time she did, she was in love with him.

In every novel or short story I write, food is described intimately for the reader to partake in the eating experience. Readers smell each dish placed in front of the characters; feel the heat, or cold on their lips and tongue; then savor munching chewy, crunchy, or smooth blends of flavors and seasonings.

Consuming food is probably our most communal activity. Meals are often shared, as are treats like ice cream, and popcorn. And holidays are all about eating together. I write character driven stories. And sharing a meal is a great stage for revealing intimate details about the people at the table.


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Jeri!



You can find Jeri here:




Thursday, January 30, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Elizabeth Blake, Author of Pride, Prejudice & Poison



My Jane Austen Society cozy mysteries are set in Yorkshire, England.  Erin Coleridge and her best friend Farnsworth Appleby are British, as are most of the other characters in Pride, Prejudice and Poison.  So they’re all eating English food.

British food was a joke when I was growing up in Ohio – think bland, overcooked vegetables, stodgy meat pies and gloppy, tasteless puddings.  By the time I was twelve, I had memorized the famous Monty Python sketch about spam.

No.  No, no, no.  That is not the Britain I know.  In fact, when I think of the United Kingdom, I think of the food.  We had fresh roasted vegetables and coconut shrimp skewers in Bath, grilled fish with ginger and duck pie in Oxford, smoked trout with endive in Edinburgh, and chicken tikka masala where it was actually invented in Glasgow – the Shish Mahal, and they have a charming origin story.  (By the way, chicken tikka masala is now widely considered one of the national dishes of United Kingdom.)

But what really blew me away on this visit was the glorious, buttery scones with a generous dollop of fresh clotted cream and homemade cherry jam, accompanied by a cup of proper builder’s tea – strong and hot and comforting like nothing else in this world.  The tea that will convince you god’s in his heaven and all’s right with the world, that the novel you just poured your heart into will become a best seller, and that your ex-boyfriend isn’t really happy with that willowy blond yoga teacher he keeps posting about on Facebook.  (And what kind of name is Cyprus anyway?  Does she think she’s a tree?)  The tea that got Britain through the bombing of London – and, you know, helped their tiny island nation save the world from fascism.  That tea.  (Spoiler alert: I use tea as a murder weapon in Pride, Prejudice and Poison, but it’s not a bad way to go in a cozy mystery, right?)

On a cold, rainswept day in October, with the kind of relentless downpour that is considered a “nice day” in the UK, we interrupted a thankless slog to Heathrow Airport to revive ourselves at a Morrisons Supermarket.  Morrisons is a British grocery chain kind of like our Stop and Shop – big, friendly, and surprisingly resourceful.

And they have a café.  Fresh prawn and mayonnaise sandwiches (that’s a thing over there), beans on toast (another thing), bacon and eggs, sausage and mashed, Dover sole with artichokes – whatever you can think of, you can basically get at Morrisons Café.  And tea.  Not a cup, but a proper POT of hot, steaming tea, with a flaky raisin scone with jam and fresh clotted cream for a POUND.  That’s about $1.25 (or about fifty cents if you’re reading this after Brexit.)

The lady at the counter was so nice she made me cry a little.  Because, you know, driving in England sucks and we were so exhausted.  Huddling over our tea and scones, we were so very grateful to this nation of kind, tea making people who are so good to weary travelers.

We don’t have anything like that in this country.  Let me repeat that: We don’t have anything CLOSE to that in this country.  If, god help you, you order tea and a pastry at Starbucks or Think Coffee any other café, chain or otherwise, you’ll be lucky to get a mug of lukewarm water with a soggy teabag that looks like your cat’s discarded hairball.  And if you could find a scone with clotted cream (you can’t), it would be approximately the same price as that pair of leather boots you put on layaway at Macy’s until your next paycheck.

So, yeah.  British food rocks.  Don’t even get me started on the fish and chips.


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Elizabeth!



You can find Elizabeth/C.E. here:







Thursday, January 23, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Elaine Calloway, Author of Windstorm



In my worldview, pizza and beer go together just like peanut butter and jelly. When my friends and I would dig into a meaty concoction filled with sausage and pepperoni, our favorite brews always accompanied the choice. This pairing wasn’t about flavor or the palette; pizza and beer were simply a known pairing.

When I went on a trip to Napa Valley to do some research for my book Windstorm, which has winery themes, I was surprised to find dozens of pizza places within Napa Valley, all of which served wine with their pies.

While I’d never heard of such a thing, I quickly discovered that Napa Valley does not have ordinary pizza…and they certainly don’t have ordinary wine.

Skewered shrimp and tomato pizza? This pairs well with the Sauvignon Blanc from a specific winery.

Spinach and artichoke pizza with grilled mushrooms? Try a sweeter wine such as Riesling.

Duck pizza braised with barbeque sauce? Try a Merlot.

For every type of pizza, there was a wine to accommodate.

And what I learned as I explored historic wineries with ornate décor is that it’s not just about pouring a red or white glass of wine. Wine to the local Napa Valley folks is a mini-Siesta, a means of connecting people, a means of slowing down and living in the present moment.

We rush through our days, hectic-filled with responsibilities and appointments. And yet, Napa Valley has figured out a way to take a breather, relax, and appreciate the little things.

Next time you’re in the mood for pizza, check out Napa Valley and enjoy a glass of vino with your choice.


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Elaine!


You can find Elaine here:







Elaine Calloway writes paranormal fiction with a Southern twist. Windstorm is part of her Urban Fantasy Elemental Clan Series, which has a total of 5 books. She is currently working on a 10-book Southern Ghosts Series and Book 5, Kentucky Reign, will be released Spring of 2020. To follow Elaine’s book updates, join her readers list here: https://forms.aweber.com/form/83/1228819183.htm

Windstorm Pinterest Board:
 https://www.pinterest.com/elainecalloway/windstorm-book-4-elemental-clan-series/

Thursday, January 16, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Sandra Bolton, Author of Key Witness



When Abe Freeman left New Jersey and his Jewish roots for the enchanted land of New Mexico, he discovered that new adventures can be more than romance and danger. There are also those of the culinary kind. Leaving his matzo balls behind, he had his first food encounter in a small town diner just west of the Texas border. When the waitress asked him if he wanted "red" or "green" on his enchiladas Abe, puzzled, settled for what she called "Christmas", a serving of both red and green chile served atop two cheese enchiladas and accompanied with a generous serving of refried beans and rice.

That was only the beginning. His introduction to Navajo Police Officer, Emily Etcitty led him to try such delicacies as mutton stew, fry bread, Navajo tacos, and, reluctantly, blood sausage. Although their relationship started off rocky, the food adventures continued to grow. On special occasions such as ceremonies, kneel-down bread, made of mashed corn and baked underground in corn husks, was served. As a legacy of commodities, Abe also discovered that Navajo homes always had such staples as SPAM, white flour, and strong black coffee on hand.

Once he found out what he was eating though, he did draw the line on one delicacy served to him by Emily's brother, Will. Fried up nice and crisp, Will insisted that Rocky Mountain oysters were delicious. If you don't know what they are, imagine the leftovers of lamb castration.

During the course of my three-volume Emily Etcitty mysteries, Abe encountered a multitude of new taste delights, such as green chile stew, tamales, and carne adovada, but he never lost his love of latkes with sour cream and applesauce.


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Sandra!



You can find Sandra here:




Thursday, January 9, 2020

FOODFIC: Please Welcome Gordon Bickerstaff, Author of Deadly Secrets



In the thriller Deadly Secrets, Gavin Shawlens is scoffing a pineapple to save his life. In a desperate scene, Gavin is poisoned, and he turns to the power of the pineapple. How can the humble pineapple save him? The popular fruit contains a smart component normally involved in the ripening process; an enzyme called bromelain.

The medicinal properties of pineapple were known over 600 years ago by South American Indians who found magical healing properties and pineapple became a symbol of good health as well as a gift for friends and strangers. Pineapple flesh was used as a digestion aid and as a cleansing agent to improve skin texture. Warriors prepared a poultice using pineapple flesh for serious wounds and a 'bandage' from pineapple leaves for superficial cuts.

Another regular use of pineapple by the Indians was to overcome painful bellyache that accompanied feasting on meat. Consumption of meat 600 years ago was much greater than that of today. After a successful hunt, a hunter might eat more than 1kg of meat at one sitting. Such an indulgence would strain the digestive system.

Even today, meat impaction is common in the emergency room of a general hospital. The medics call it 'steakhouse overload', and it is often caused when lumps of meat are trapped in the gut. Treatment is simple, and involves the patient drinking a precise formula solution of protease such as bromelain at regular intervals over a set period of time.

In Deadly Secrets Gavin uses his understanding of pineapple constituents to save the day, and it is amazing how certain foodstuff can provide health benefits. Pineapple researchers have found that bromelain may be useful in treating blood clots, which are responsible for heart attack and stroke. Others, in the cosmetic industry have evaluated bromelain skin-peel preparations to improve skin texture.

Although a great deal of research is still needed on the mechanisms by which bromelain exerts its various effects, it is clear that pineapples and, in particular its component bromelain, have potential for supporting healthier living.

What other secret health benefits are hidden in our food?


Thanks for stopping by to share your food for thought, Gordon!



You can find Gordon here: