There are a couple of reasons we rotate our diet, the first being that the doctor told us to. My dear husband would be perfectly content with a brie sandwich washed down with a glass of milk for every meal, every day. Indeed, he did this during the several months that visa expirations separated us, and Costco made it possible to continue this habit on a grand scale. Lo and behold, when his cholesterol reached dangerous proportions, doctors were alarmed. The MD offered him the option of prescription medications for life; the naturopath tested him for allergies and proposed the radical option of rotating his diet. I won't lie and say it was easy; it was anything but. But his cholesterol plummeted from dangerous levels to absolutely picture-perfect. (We also noted other minor health benefits.)
However, after two years of trying to fit a four-day rotation into a seven-day week, I backed off. It was no fun always having to consult the chart on the fridge to determine dinner. Figuring out what next Tuesday's dinner was meant counting on my fingers (Thanksgiving only falls on a wheat day once every four years!). And planning evenings out or trips was a nightmare.
When our eldest started going to school, there were parent evenings where this incredibly impractical woman would give us parenting tips--an interesting notion, since she had none of her own. However, this wisp of a young woman said something that stuck: small children don't have the wherewithal to make choices. Tell, don't ask, she said. Bombarding them from the minute they get up with questions about what they're going to eat, wear, do first, etc., is too much for everyone. Better to establish Monday as oatmeal day, Tuesday scrambled eggs, etc. Indeed, their weekly rhythm at school was well-established, and we soon picked up the lingo: "today is soup day, remember to take a vegetable for the pot!" "Oh, goody, Wednesday is watercolor day!"
When our slacker dietary habits caught up to us in the form of higher cholesterol and blood pressure, our new doctor suggested we restart the rotation. But that kindergarten teacher had given me the key: make it a seven-day rotation. And so there we have it: Monday is potato/almond milk; Tuesday, rice/soy; Wednesday, spelt/goat (or sheep); Thursday, rice/soy; Friday, potato/almond; Saturday rice/soy and Sunday is indulgently normal: wheat and dairy (think bread and cheese, cake and whipped cream).
In the end, it does make things easier. If the omnivore's dilemma is having too many choices, then setting up some sort of rhythm already makes some of the decisions for you. In this day of information overload, the knowledge that I'm making spaghetti (spelt, with sheep's milk Romano cheese) on Wednesday is a comfort. Our family finds comfort, stability and joy in getting one of our favorite meals on a regular basis. And yes, blood pressure, cholesterol and weight are in wonderfully normal ranges.
I recall a theatre teacher telling us that art without discipline was chaos. I find that this 'discipline' creates a framework that actually increases my creativity. I once saw a BBC cooking show where they give a chef a bag of seemingly disparate ingredients, and the chef had to create a dish that used all of them. The rigid rules made the chefs dig deeply into their creativity--which we all know can mean some real doozies, both good and bad.
I also must note that establishing a routine or rhythm for meals is not an entirely new-age-y practice. Think of the Saturday night prime rib dinner at the local diner (and how it always seems to turn up as leftovers in the next morning's special), or the priest urging parishioners to eat fish on Fridays. A friend has a mom who was a Home Ec teacher: they had the same meals weekly (predictably, roast beef on Sunday and fish on Friday). We all readily accept the notion of three meals a day--our language even accommodates this convention.
It turns out oatmeal is not our exchange student's thing. He gave it the old college try, but he's discovered the joys of granola, even on Monday.
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