Without question, the greatest of all dietetic errors is to eat without appetite. It is nothing less than a crime against the stomach, and yet this practice is one of the most common of all those which contribute to the prevalence of dyspepsia in civilized communities. No animal, the human race excepted, would attempt to eat without the relish that absolutely depends upon the possession of a keen appetite. Many thousands of people attempt to eat their meals regularly without regard to the demands of hunger merely because it is "meal-time." Eating in such cases has only the excuse of habit, although frequently it is regarded as a duty. Eating should never be regarded as a duty, nor should it be allowed to become a habit, for when not pleasurable it is not beneficial.
One will often, hear the remark that one must "eat to keep up his strength." While this advice is fundamentally sound in a large sense under normal conditions and when a true appetite is present, yet there never was a greater delusion when it is applied to forced eating when the appetite is lacking. Eating under such conditions does not keep up one's strength, but on the contrary actually impairs it by burdening the digestive system with food that cannot be properly assimilated. It is not what you eat but what you assimilate that keeps you strong, and digestion depends upon appetite and the enjoyment associated therewith. The question of enjoyment is really a question of appetite, and if you are not hungry and cannot relish the food keenly when meal-time comes it is certainly best to wait until the next meal or until you are hungry. Every wild animal has sense enough to follow its natural inclination in this respect, but thousands of human beings go to the table because it is dinner-time, and force themselves to eat food that they do not desire simply because of the stupid delusion that continual and frequent eating is necessary for strength.
The discussion of appetite brings up the question of the number of meals that is proper for each day. The prevailing system of three meals per day is a custom surviving from a time in which early rising and hard physical labor throughout a long day was the rule, especially in connection with out-of-door work. This does not mean, however, that three meals is always the best plan for civilized life in sedentary occupations. There are some wild races that eat only two meals per day, and there have been instances of hunters and even whole populations following the one-meal-per-day plan. Naturally at the present time the occupation and the requirements of the individual would have much to do with the question. If one does hard work, has an appetite for three meals per day, and seems to thrive on that plan, it is the preferable one. If, however, you are a sedentary worker, and especially if you do not have an appetite for three meals per day and cannot thoroughly enjoy them, the two-meal-per-day plan would be much better. The two-meal- per-day plan has often proven beneficial even when associated with the strenuous physical training required for athletic competition in racing, wrestling, boxing, Marathon running and other vigorous sports. It is entirely a question of appetite. If you have no appetite for breakfast then follow the two-meal-per-day plan. I will say, however, that in many cases one can enjoy and profit by a breakfast of fruit.
The question of how to eat is closely related to the question of how many meals one should take. Overeating is a very prevalent failing. There is no question that large numbers eat themselves, as it were, into a condition of stupor. Their energies are required for the disposal of the excessive quantity of food ingested, and they have no energy left for mental work or for physical activity. They are, so to speak, "food drunk." I am personally satisfied that the best cure for overeating is food in less frequent meals and the practice of masticating the food thoroughly in the manner that I have suggested. In a case of this kind the two-meal-per-day plan is also to be recommended. Actual experience shows that those inclined to overeat do not eat any more at one meal when eating two meals than when eating three meals-they may possibly eat less, because of the more normal condition of the stomach. Another good plan to pursue is the use of uncooked foods, or at least the adoption of a diet consisting in part of uncooked foods. It is entirely possible to eat too little of nourishing food, just as it is to eat too much. But one who lives a natural and active life, especially if out-of-doors a fair part of the time, is not likely to lack a good appetite nor to eat less than the required amount. Good general health always brings with it a normal appetite.
Overeating, however, is no doubt in many cases due very largely to the inadequate character of the foods consumed. I am satisfied that if all our foods were eaten in their natural condition and if they perfectly supplied the needs of the body there would be no tendency toward overeating. The great trouble is that conventional methods of food preparation have such a destructive effect upon the nutritive value of the foods in common use that a healthy body often craves large quantities of diverse foods in order to get a sufficiency of certain elements which are lacking. The use of white bread is a case in point, for, as stated in another chapter, the best part of the wheat has been eliminated in the process of milling. Furthermore, to a large extent the mineral salts are removed from our vegetables in the process of boiling; that is to say, when the water in which they were boiled is thrown away. The polishing of rice, the use of white flour in manufacturing macaroni, the refining of our sugar, and many other processes, are directly responsible for the almost universal habit of overeating. Certain elements are taken out of the food, the body craves these elements, and in trying to secure adequate nourishment, one eats an excessive amount of the refined defective foods.
The suggestions offered in the previous chapter concerning the necessity for the enjoyment of food, give one a fairly clear idea as to what he should eat. In other words, he should select those foods that he thoroughly enjoys, keeping in mind the necessity of using only those that are at least reasonably wholesome. If you have a large variety from which to select, this will be to your advantage, provided you do not include too many foods at one meal. It is a good plan to get your variety from meal to meal and from day to day, but without including too many dishes at any one meal.
One of the most remarkable cases of longevity with which I have ever come in contact proved in a very pointed way the value of this suggestion. This was a woman who had lived to be over eighty years of age. During the last forty years of her life she was as agile, as clear- headed and as capable as a young woman in the heyday of her youth. I am satisfied that to a large extent the unusual vitality possessed by this woman was due to her habit of eating but one article of food two meals each day, although occasionally she would eat only one. Her meals were taken irregularly, because she would eat only when she was hungry. When she had a definite appetite it would nearly always indicate to her the particular food that she wanted. She would then prepare a meal of this food and thoroughly satisfy her appetite with it. Nothing else was eaten at that meal. This woman naturally went through some very severe trials before she adopted this diet-indeed, a terrible lesson of some sort seems necessary to compel one to follow a strict dietetic regimen. At the age of forty she was a physical wreck, having been for years tortured with rheumatism. Having vainly tried every other remedy, she finally became interested in diet, and through it finally overcame her difficulty. It might also be of interest in this connection to know that she never used salt, pepper, or condiments of any sort with her meals, and it would be well to emphasize that it is important to avoid the too free use of condiments and stimulating foods. We have used salt so long that our bodies seem adapted to it, and it is usually considered essential to the welfare of domestic stock; therefore it is a moot question as to whether it is advisable for human beings to avoid it altogether. Yet the excessive use of it to which we are prone is certainly harmful. How is this to be avoided? If we eat our food in a hand, I have found that the longer you are without it the more you long for it, until the craving becomes much more intense than is the hunger of a man who fasts (the symptoms are those of a disease rather than of being hungry). Among the uncivilized Eskimos the dislike of salt is so strong that a saltiness imperceptible to me would prevent them from eating at all. This fact was often useful to me, and when our Eskimo visitors threatened to eat us out of house and home we could put in a little pinch of salt, and thus husband our resources without seeming inhospitable. A man who tasted anything salty at our table would quickly bethink him that he had plenty of more palatable fare in his own house. On the score of what to eat I would reiterate what I have said about the use of foods in their natural condition. The refinement of various foods has made them entirely unfit for human consumption. Of first importance without doubt is the use of the whole grain of the wheat for flour. Wheat, as produced by the Almighty, is practically a perfect food, containing all the elements required by the human body and in a proportion not very far from that found in the body. In modern methods of milling, however, the effort is made to eliminate everything in the wheat grain except the pure starch, which naturally makes a fine, smooth, white flour. The miller is not absolutely successful in his endeavor, but he does succeed in robbing the product of the natural state, that is in an uncooked form, salt can be more easily avoided, but cooking in many instances modifies the flavor to such an extent that salt seems necessary. I am not prepared to admit that it is a necessity, for I know of many who avoid the use of salt altogether and who have maintained unusual vital vigor. I have known of others, however, who have tried to eliminate salt from their diet and the results have been unsatisfactory. We may therefore say that in most cases the moderate use of salt can be recommended.
One of the most interesting expressions of opinion on the subject of salt that I have seen was a statement by Stefanson, the Arctic explorer, in his "My Quest in the Arctic," in which he discusses the diet of the Eskimos and their constitutional aversion to salt.
"Most people are in the habit of looking upon the articles of our customary diet, and especially upon salt, as necessities. We have not found them so. The longer you go without green foods and vegetables the less you long for them. Salt I have found to behave like a narcotic poison; in other words, it is as hard to break off its use as it is hard to stop the use of tobacco. But after you have been a month or so without salt you cease to long for it, and after six months I have found the taste of meat boiled in salt water positively disagreeable. In the case of such a necessary element of food as fat on the other hand, I have found that the longer you are without it the more you long for it, until the craving becomes much more intense than is the hunger of a man who fasts (the symptoms are those of a disease rather than of being hungry). Among the uncivilized Eskimos the dislike of salt is so strong that a saltiness imperceptible to me would prevent them from eating at all. This fact was often useful to me, and when our Eskimo visitors threatened to eat us out of house and home we could put in a little pinch of salt, and thus husband our resources without seeming inhospitable. A man who tasted anything salty at our table would quickly bethink him that he had plenty of more palatable fare in his own house."