Jane Macdougall | January 19, 2013
"It began, as many misadventures do, innocently enough.
I had baked a loaf of bread. A simple, honest bread made from the 
best of simple, honest ingredients. Nonetheless, several dinner guests 
declined the bread. My friends, it turned out, were boycotting gluten. 
Hadn’t I heard? Gluten was the new great Satan. It was as if I were 
offering cocktails of Red Dye No. 2 served with asbestos straws in 
leaded crystal tumblers.
I had misguidedly thought that homemade bread had placed me in the 
vanguard of healthy living. Apparently I was wrong. I’d inadvertently 
played into the hands of the industrial baking complex and their evil 
agenda.
This led me to an inquiry into the gluten gripe, that led to poking 
about the subject of commercial baking, that led to examining the GMO 
debacle that deposited me on a sofa opposite Dr. William Davis, author 
of the massively bestselling book, Wheat Belly, and now the Wheat Belly Cookbook.
The simple loaf of bread quickly became a can of worms. Food, it turns out, is really complicated these days.
Where to begin? It turns out that bread isn’t what it used to be 
because flour isn’t what it used to be because wheat isn’t what it used 
to be.
Historically, bread is made from four ingredients: Flour, water, salt
 and yeast. Bread is so natural, that by combining just two of these 
ingredients — flour and water — bread will sometimes make itself.
Most people buy their bread off a grocery store shelf. Mass produced 
store-bought bread is delightfully squishy, uniform and imperishable.
Bread needs time to rise. Time is money so industrial bakers add 
enzymes to hasten this process. People like certain appearances so 
various colourants are added to appease that aesthetic. The issue of 
“fresh” is challenged as bread now has to travel great distances to 
market, so preservatives are added. The humble loaf of bread thus morphs
 into something much more complex.
Denatured is the word that crops up time and time again when 
contemporary wheat flour is mentioned. It used to be that your bag of 
all-purpose flour was flecked with brown pips — the germ of the wheat. 
That’s milled out now as wheat germ goes rancid quickly. What do they do
 with the wheat germ? Millers sell it to vitamin manufacturers who sell 
it back to us as Vitamin E. Go figure.
There is, as they say, more grist for this mill but we need to move along.
The core issue here is with wheat. Yes, those amber waves of grain 
that comprise the backbone of contemporary agriculture are where things 
gets really complicated.
What we call wheat is a distant relative to what our grandparents called wheat
What we call wheat is a distant relative to what our grandparents 
called wheat. I’m going to hazard to say that there was no nefarious 
agenda to transform wheat into the Franken-grain many believe it’s 
become. Instead, it appears that a series of well-intentioned 
adjustments were made to address world hunger. If we could increase the 
yield per acre of wheat, fewer people might starve to death. A noble 
objective, no? The complexity at play between humans and our natural 
world, however, isn’t very tolerant of certain changes.
Old wheat was four feet high with seeds that clung to the stem. They 
were adaptable and hardy plants. Crop yield was dictated by climate and 
natural growing seasons. New wheat, however, is dwarf or semi-dwarf 
varieties of about two feet height, relying on a steady diet of 
nitrates, irrigation and pest control. This combination means a field 
can produce 10-fold the yield. Threshing is easier as the grain is 
exposed and engineered for more expedient harvest. I have a postcard in 
my office that reads: “Cheap. Fast. Good. Choose two.” Apparently, we 
chose cheap and fast. In many ways, it was a defensible choice.
Dr. William Davis sums it up this way: ‘Celiac disease is the canary in the coal mine’
This is the stuff you can see. On a genetic level, new wheat is 
different altogether. The evidence is mounting that humans are having an
 especially hard time with the new strains of wheat. The hybridized or 
genetically modified wheat protein — the infamous gluten — is something 
completely new. It’s these new wheat proteins that are associated with 
the four-fold upswing in celiac disease over the past half-century. It 
can be argued that all this tinkering with wheat is giving rise to the 
upswing in gluten intolerances as well as celiac disease. Dr. William 
Davis sums it up this way:
“Celiac disease is the canary in the coal mine” where wheat is concerned.
The bestseller Wheat Belly pivots upon these issues. Most 
are led to the book by vague complaints associated with ill effects 
associated with wheat consumption. Davis, a cardiologist, began his own 
inquiry began as he explored ways to manage his patients’ diabetic 
issues. Bread, it turns out, has a whopping glycemic index. A glycemic 
index is the comparative effect of carbohydrates on blood sugar. Table 
sugar has a GI of 59; a slice of whole grain bread has a GI of 72. The 
culprit here is the highly digestible carbohydrate, amylopectin A, which
 Davis says is more detrimental to the body than white sugar. New 
science suggests avoiding blood sugar surges is essential to good 
health. A high GI number will spike your blood sugar. Diabetes is 
providing the clues here. According to Davis, diabetes is “a proving 
ground for accelerated aging.” Mismanaged blood sugar issues take a 
hideous toll on diabetics and non-diabetics alike. What you want to 
avoid are advanced glycation end-products.
Glucose-protein combinations — useless debris — muck up the body in just about every way imaginable: Cataracts, dementia, wrinkles, coronary artery disease, cancer, arthritis
These are the glucose-protein combinations — useless debris — that 
muck up the body in just about every way imaginable. Cataracts, 
dementia, wrinkles, coronary artery disease, cancer, arthritis: glycemic
 index figures are tied to all these. Wheat is uniquely positioned 
because of its unique blood glucose-increasing effects to be a catalyst 
for this laundry list of nasty developments.
Oh my.
This, I figured, is how heavy smokers must have felt when doctor’s 
reversed their opinion on the health benefits of cigarettes. To my mind,
 there is no greater love story than that of soup and sandwich. I am 
helpless to resist the plain-spoken charms of the humble muffin.
If you go to the gym and wear sunscreen and find a way to hide kale 
in just about everything your family eats, all of the foregoing would 
set off alarm bells. And it did.
I decided to take up Davis’s challenge. I undertook a season of 
living wheatlessly. Toast was toast. I started in mid-September. And 
again in late September. Then in October, in earnest. Giving up wheat is
 tougher than you might imagine. One miscalculation, one mindless 
ingestion, one uninformed choice, and I was off the plan. Wheat is 
everywhere!
At this point, it was mostly just elimination. I substituted cucumber
 slices for crackers. I abandoned cereal for smoothies. Salads replaced 
sandwiches. It was, let me tell you, no fun. I became that person at the
 dinner party declining artisanal bread, pasta, crusted halibut steaks, 
dessert; the same person I had cursed while clearing the dishes. And 
then I got serious. I moved on to the Wheat Belly Cookbook. 
This entailed a shopping trip for specific provisions. My pantry filled 
up with subtypes of flour that had previously escaped my notice: 
chickpea flour, quinoa flour, coconut flour, and others. To address 
Davis’s warning about advanced glycation end-products, I carted home 
stevia and Splenda as sugar substitutes. I baked Wheat Belly 
muffins and thanked God I wasn’t a celiac. One dozen expensive coconut 
flour, stevia sweetened banana muffins languished on the counter;
nobody wanted them. We found most of the Wheat Belly Cookbook baked goods far too sweet for our taste.
nobody wanted them. We found most of the Wheat Belly Cookbook baked goods far too sweet for our taste.
I experimented with my own coconut flour crusted fried chicken and decided boiled chicken was a better option
I experimented with my own coconut flour crusted fried chicken and decided boiled chicken was a better option. Wheat Belly
 pizza, if you divorced yourself from all previously held concepts of 
pizza, was a decent vegetarian dish. The cookbook would have you believe
 that mashed cauliflower duplicates a biscuit crust of a chicken pot 
pie. It doesn’t. Which is not to say that mashed cauliflower topped with
 shredded cheddar isn’t tasty, it’s just not chicken pot pie. The Wheat Belly
 recipes that don’t hinge on wheat flour are completely acceptable 
recipes, but the baked goods were uniformly not to my liking; nut and 
seed flours make for leaden baked goods. One way to include allowable 
wheat-free baking was to get my hands on some non-GMO wheat. I sent away
 to Heritage Wheat Conservancy in Massachusetts for a bag of einkorn 
wheat, ground it in my Vitamix and baked a single loaf. Meh. Maybe I 
milled it badly? Maybe I need to adjust the recipe? I need to keep 
experimenting, I guess.
| 
Ben Nelms for National Post/files  
Wheat
 Belly author William Davis says the highly digestible  
carbohydrate 
amylopectin A is more detrimental to 
the body than white sugar. | 
It became a matter of having satisfying alternatives on hand. No 
doubt you’ll have noticed the gluten-free products flooding the market. 
Davis expects to see a spike in diabetes from these products as the 
tapioca, rice, corn and potato starches that replace wheat gluten have 
sky-high glycemic indexes that will ultimately take their health toll. 
He’d also advise you to be skeptical of the purported health benefits of
 whole grains. When we met in Vancouver to discuss his work, Davis spoke
 of a wide range of food staples that are now subjected to a broad 
spectrum of chemical- and radiation-based hybridization techniques that 
are “unleashed on an unwitting public.” His account of the “traditional 
breeding” methods responsible for Clearfield Wheat had me genuinely 
worried. But nothing about Davis suggested a strident alarmist. He 
seemed a soft-spoken, reasonable Midwesterner who had backed into some 
information he felt the public ought to be aware of, and he was 
proposing a way to navigate the mess we’re in.
Wheat Belly spoke of a wheat-induced mental fog that would 
lift as wheat cleared my system; unwanted pounds were supposed to fall 
off; various physical complaints were expected to subside. This was not 
my experience. I wasn’t looking to lose weight, and I didn’t. Mental fog
 wasn’t a chronic complaint of mine so I can’t say I was suddenly beset 
with clear-thinking punditry. My litany of physical complaints remains 
pretty much unchanged. Improvements, however, are dependent upon one’s 
personal degree of wheat intolerance and maybe I’m one of the lucky, 
tolerant ones. I will say that I found my appetite decreased as Davis 
said it likely would.
I haven’t kept up my wheat-less experiment; I miss bread too much
I haven’t kept up my wheat-less experiment; I miss bread too much. 
I’ve made several changes, however, but given the complex chemical 
issues involved with wheat, half measures offer little benefit. I 
learned a lot from the Wheat Belly books. The cookbook can’t be
 judged as a traditional cookbook — it fails miserably — but offers 
excellent suggestions for navigating what’s starting to look like a very
 serious public health issue. I’m keeping an eye on the earnest young 
men and women who are trying to bring pre-GMO wheat back into production
 and I urge you to support them, too.
And thus ends my Wheat Belly experiment. I’m going to 
celebrate with one of the happy adjuncts of my wheatless experience: 
sorghum beer! Delicious! Trust me.

 
 
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