Uma Naidoo - Your brain on food : an indispensable guide to the surprising foods that fight depression, anxiety, PTSD, OCD, ADHD, and more

N utrition and psychiatry may not seem like the most natural fit. When you picture Dr. Freud with his pipe and his leather couch, hes probably not scribbling a recipe for baked salmon on his prescription pad. Indeed, in my experience psychiatrists send their patients home with prescription drugs or referrals to other types of therapy, but no guidance on how food can help them with the challenges that brought them to the analysts couch. And though many conscientious modern eaters think constantly about the food were eatinghow it will affect our hearts, the environment, and most of all our waistlineswe dont think about its influence on our brains.

While this relationship between nutrition and mental health may not feel intuitive at first glance, its key to understanding twin epidemics in modern health care. Though medical knowledge and technology are better than they have ever been, both mental health disorders and bad health outcomes caused by poor dietary choices are disturbingly common. One in five American adults will have a diagnosable mental health condition in any given year, and 46 percent of Americans will meet the criteria for a diagnosable mental health condition sometime in their life. Thirty-seven percent of Americans are considered obese, with an additional 32.5 percent considered overweight, making a total of roughly 70 percent of the population above an optimal weight. An estimated 23.1 million Americans have a diabetes diagnosis, with another 7.2 million estimated to be undiagnosed. Thats a total of 30.3 million people, almost 10 percent of the population.

Much like the intricate relationship between the gut and brain that forms the basis of this book, diet and mental health are inextricably linked, and the connection between them goes both ways: a dearth of good dietary choices leads to an increase in mental health issues, and mental health issues in turn lead to poor eating habits. Until we solve nutritional problems, no amount of medication and psychotherapy is going to be able to stem the tide of mental issues in our society.

While fixing the broken relationship between diet and mental health is certainly important on a societal level, it can also make a crucial difference on an individual leveland not just for those who suffer from diagnosed mental conditions. Whether or not you have ever visited a mental health professional for depression or anxiety, every one of us has felt sad and nervous. We all have experienced obsession and trauma, large or small. We all want to keep our attention and memories sharp. We all need to sleep and have a satisfying sex life.

In this book, I want to show you ways in which you can use diet to achieve well-being in every aspect of your mental health.

When people learn that I am a psychiatrist, a nutritionist, and a trained chef, they often assume that I have been cooking since I was young and that my medical interests came later. But I actually learned to cook relatively late in life. I grew up in a large South Asian family surrounded by grandmothers, aunts, a mother, and a mother-in-law who were all exceptional cooks. I didnt need to cook! My mom, a double-boarded physician and excellent cook and baker, did get me interested in baking, and it was through the exact measuring of ingredients that the roots of my love for science took hold. Otherwise, I was happy to let others handle things in the kitchen.

When I moved to Boston to train in psychiatry at Harvard, I felt ripped from the love and warmth of my extended family and the delicious food that signified home. I knew I had to learn how to cook in order to carve out a home in this new place. My husband, being the brilliant person he is, already knew how to cook, but I banished him from the kitchen (at least so he likes to jokein reality he was an invaluable guide and brutally honest taste tester) and began to try out a few recipes that Id been taught.

For inspiration, I channeled memories of Pinetown Granny, as we called my maternal grandma. While my mom attended medical school during the day, I hung out with her and watched her cook. At three years old Id peer into the kitchen, not allowed to step anywhere near the hot stove and oven, and observe her closely. Wed start the day by picking fresh vegetables from the garden, then prepped fresh vegetables for lunch, set the table, told stories, and took an afternoon nap.

Since cable was an unaffordable luxury as we were getting on our feet in Boston, I also watched public television and met the magnificent Julia Child, dropping omelets and teaching me about French cuisine. She inspired great confidence in my cooking and kept me company during many lonely hours when my husband was completing his fellowship. Slowly and steadily, cooking became a part of me and a space in which I could decompress once I began residency.

Even after I began to work as a practicing psychiatrist, my passion for cooking stayed strong, and my husband suggested I spend some time at the Culinary Institute of America. I loved taking classes at the CIA but couldnt sustain the commute while actively working as a doctor in Boston. So I enrolled in an amazing local school, Cambridge School of Culinary Arts, and pledged to keep myself committed to both psychiatry and cooking.

I quickly learned that unlike the sexy medical dramas on TV, which are a far cry from the real-life medical world, professional-level cooking as it is depicted onscreen is really how it isa lot of screaming and yelling from the head chef, although theyre not usually as foul-mouthed as Gordon Ramsay. Though it is stressful, nothing beats the gratifying feeling when your meringue comes together perfectly, or when you appreciate the depth and flavor of a perfectly executed consomm, or when your pte is the texture of buttercream before it sets.