Holy Guacamole
When I was 20 years old, I spent nine months living with a host family in Italy. So many things from that time were unforgettable: walking briskly along narrow cobblestone streets, dodging motorini and smart cars, discovering art around every corner, stepping into the enfolding quiet of vacant churches, and breathing in the centuries-old scent of candles and prayer. And, of course, the food: my golly, the food.
My Italian host mamma lived passionately and loudly. At one point, she decided to purchase the town’s only Mexican restaurant. Exactly why she wanted to dive into this business venture was lost in translation, but I willingly let her bustle me along with her family and closest friends to a dinner there, sampling menu highlights. The group buzzed with excitement as we listened to my Italian mamma gush about the most exquisite food she had ever eaten: guacamole.
Growing up in California, surrounded by avocado trees, guacamole was practically a daily staple for me. But in this small Italian town in the early 2000s, before smartphones and Instagram flooded the world with food photos, it was a novelty. When the waiters finally set the stone bowls piled high with the luscious green dip, we were all eager to dig in. Crunches and exclamations of delight erupted from around the table. But something was off. The “guacamole” before us was simply mashed avocado– no salt, no lime, no cilantro. Just avocado.
My host mamma must have noticed my silence because she asked for my opinion. Conversation hushed, and the eyes of everyone at the table turned toward me, the newly appointed International Food Ambassador. I fumbled for a diplomatic answer, tentatively explaining that the guacamole I was used to usually had other ingredients, like cilantro. “What’s cilantro?” she asked. I wracked my brain for the Italian translation (how helpful Google Translate would have been at that moment!) but could only offer, “It’s like parsley… but different.”
I’m not here to tell you what ingredients belong in your guacamole or to start a debate between Team Chunky and Team Smooth. And to those who say cilantro tastes like soap: I see you! The beauty of food lies in its endless personalization. Each recipe is a reflection of who we are and where we come from. Whatever ingredients you choose, the magic happens in the way the flavors interact, transforming the dish into something much greater than the sum of its parts.
This, in many ways, mirrors our experience with nutrition. We often search for that one meal plan, superfood, or supplement that promises to be The Answer. But food, like life, is far more complex than any oversimplified marketing slogan would have us believe. Maybe you’ve been caught up in chasing one health claim after another, or perhaps you’ve found yourself confused by the endless stream of conflicting advice. It’s understandable. Nutrition isn’t a one-size-fits-all formula. Just as every guacamole recipe is unique, so are the nutritional needs of each body– shaped by everything from genetics to emotions to life experiences.
This is why I often prefer the term “nourishment” over “nutrition.”
To me, “nutrition” refers to the individual components of food, the amounts of protein, fiber, or calcium listed on the back of a package. It’s informative, much like a recipe’s list of ingredients. But the act of eating, the way food interacts with our bodies, is much more dynamic than the nutrients it contains. Nourishment is something deeper. It encompasses how food makes you feel– not just physically, but mentally, emotionally, and even spiritually. It’s about connection: to your body, to your culture, to your community.
Food is not just fuel. It’s an experience, a form of self-expression, a link to our roots, and a source of joy. Yes, the nutrients in food are important. But it’s equally important to honor how food nourishes our whole being. So the next time you sit down to a meal, whether it’s a homemade dish or something new from a restaurant, I invite you to consider not just the nutrition facts, but how that food feeds all parts of you.
Because just like the guacamole on that Italian table, it’s the combination of elements– flavors, memories, emotions– that creates something nourishing, both for your body and your soul.
My nutrition counseling is about supporting your whole self—body, mind, and spirit. Together, we’ll explore how food can be a tool for healing and reconnection, tailored to your unique needs. Schedule a free discovery call today to learn how we can start your journey toward balance, connection, and well-being.
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