A few weeks ago I opened the front door to the office at 7:40am to find a patient sitting in the waiting room with his phone open on the side table. He was quite happily unwrapping what he told me was a homemade falafel wrap with hummus and parsley. He began to stand, but I motioned for him to stay and enjoy his meal, especially since he was twenty minutes early. Three minutes after that, at most, I passed through the waiting room to get water for the plants. Glancing over at him with a smile I noticed that the sandwich was nowhere to be seen; the foil he’d wrapped it in was folded neatly on the table where the phone had been.
Every behavior is golden information for a practitioner. Wow, I thought, is this why his digestive tract is yet to fully respond to treatment? Is this why he continues to gain weight despite now cooking all his food at home, and having removed all cold and raw food and drinks and the inflamers from this diet? I often ask people about their chewing habits, but perhaps I should be asking them how long they actually take to eat a meal.
My maternal grandmother, who died when I was eleven and whom I didn’t meet because we were 12,000 miles apart, was an etiquette and deportment teacher before she was married. She raised my mother to count her chews. My mother survived this kind of mild punishment but, at 92, she remains a great chewer with a cast iron gut. It’s interesting to see the connection between old fashioned “good” behavior and health. As a child, if I asked my mother why it’s important to chew more than seems necessary, she would give one of two answers: “it’s uncouth to eat quickly”, and “it’s good for your tummy”. Every night she would cook dinner, often the classic meat, mashed potatoes, carrots, and string beans or silver beet (chard). My father, after having worked a very long day, would devour it astonishingly quickly. He’d always say, “Oh, darling, that was delicious and fantastic!” My mother would smile and sometimes jokingly ask whether he had tasted any of it, but they adored each other and she would never have criticized his eating speed because she knew that he grew up in a household in the 1930s when there simply wasn’t enough food, causing the four children to race for it when it landed on the table.
But the patient in the waiting room grew up in the 1990s in New York where there was plenty of food. And plenty of time. At least I’m certain there were 15 minutes more time that morning.
“Come in! Welcome. Gosh, that sandwich must’ve been delicious, it disappeared so fast!”
“Made it myself! I’m cooking everything and feeling so much better not eating out as much.”
“How’s your gut?”
“Still not comfortable, but better.”
“I think the rate at which you’re eating might be the next thing to shift. I couldn’t help but notice that the sandwich disappeared in three minutes. I think you might not be chewing properly.”
“What does that have to do with my gas and bloating? The stomach does the work.”
“The stomach is designed to work on food that is torn and mashed up into a soup. Salivary enzymes begin breaking up the carbs right there in your mouth. The proteins have to wait until they get to your stomach. You need less acid secretion in your stomach if your proteins are well chewed, as acids access where they’re needed so much more easily. Over time, the stomach gets weary secreting too much acid and will let some particles of food through to the small intestine at which point there are two options: pieces will be passed through to the large intestine and you’ll see them in the toilet, or—especially if your body feels undernourished even if you’re overeating as not enough is being absorbed—the walls of the small intestine will perforate, allowing incompletely digested particles through. That’s known as leaky gut syndrome. And along the way, as inadequately digested food gets past the stomach, the bacteria in your gut have a field day feeding on it, and they release a lot of gas. This could be the cause of your bloating, since everything else seems to be adjusted. It could be as simple as that—inadequate chewing. And to slow yourself down more and make the whole thing beautiful, focus on your food, love it as you’re looking at it, and love it as you’re tasting it. Put your attention on it, have gratitude for it as you encounter and chew it. And put your phone away for 40 minutes. You won’t believe the difference.”
And then I could hardly believe I was quoting my grandmother, “Count your chews. Swallow after 32 chews minimum, but only if it’s soupy.”
This morning I saw that patient again, this time, a very happy, gas and bloating free person. He had been so desperate for change, and grandmother’s wisdom had been the answer again.
Ann Cecil-Sterman
Broadway, Flatiron, NY City.
February 2025