I love salt. Salt loves me. But is it a healthy relationship?
Turns out many of the salty snacks that I enjoy — and have previously eaten with a side of guilt — actually help lower cholesterol.
What the wha?
Quaker Oats waxes poetic about the cholesterol-reducing benefits of their oatmeal, but I have never seen a Frito Lay ad promote pretzels’ power — but they do the very same thing!
So do nuts and popcorn (sans oil and butter) and homemade potato chips!
And to think I have given the statin I take all the credit for my lowered cholesterol. Turns out my addiction to salty snacks may have helped just as much.
Okay, maybe not as much…but I sure enjoyed them more.
Fruit and hummus, two foods I eat several times a week, also help lower cholesterol. Who knew? I sure didn’t.
Actually, now that I read the list, I’m wondering why I have high cholesterol at all. It’s certainly not from my diet. I eat all kinds of foods that help keep my numbers down.
Oh right — I inherited it. I’d rather have money.
Posted in Commentary, Dieting, Food, Foods, Health, Humor, Life
Tagged cholesterol-lowering foods, commentary, diet, food, Foods, Frito Lay, fruit, genetics, guilty pleasures, Health, high cholesterol, homemade potato chips, hummus, Humor, inheritance, life, nuts, oatmeal, popcorn, pretzels, Quaker Oats, salt, salty snacks, snack attack
I have always bemoaned my genetic background. Not my family per se — they are phenomenal people — but their medical DNA kinda sucks.
Cancer on one side, heart disease on the other. I have always pictured them as loaded guns, pointed at either side of my head. Which one will get me first?
I’ve blamed some of my physical traumas, as my blog name suggests, on my position in the family as the youngest. The last child is the oldest egg, and as we know, the only things that get better with age are wine and men.
But most of my physical maladies can be traced directly back to one of my parents. For example, high cholesterol from my dad, migraines from my mother. Bad eyesight — dad’s kin. Poor circulation — mom. I’m sure you can do the same.
But today I learned that I owe a big ol’ thank you to my dad for my ginormous thighs.
Up to now, I had blamed my dad’s side of the family for my way-out-of-proportion-with-the-rest-of-my-body thighs. Over the years, I’ve thrown quite a bit of hate at my thighs. Done everything I can to make my thighs smaller.
And then today, I read that a study published in last month’s British Medical Journal found that both men and women with small thighs had a greater risk of developing heart disease and dying prematurely.
So, while my dad may have given me high cholesterol, at least he balanced the odds with my protective, thunder thighs.