From Cauliflower to Clarity: The Hidden Teachers of Healing

—a Storyelith reflection—

I once believed cauliflower was innocent.

It looked humble enough. Pale. Soft. Cloud-like. The kind of food that keeps its head down and quietly says, “I’m good for you.”

So I trusted it. I steamed it, mashed it, dressed it in half and half, kissed it with cottage cheese and egg yolks, and laid it gently on my husband’s plate like a bedtime prayer. We were doing everything right, after all. Dinner was early. Carbs were low. A walk followed. The numbers would agree with us.

Except… they didn’t.

Three hours later, the blood sugar monitor blinked a quiet 145. Not a crisis. But not what we expected.

And so began the unraveling.
Not of the journey
But of my assumptions.

🥄 The Truth Hiding in the Cream

It wasn’t the beef.
It wasn’t the timing.
It was the cauliflower. Or more precisely, the layers I had folded into it:

• A splash of half and half

• A soft scoop of cottage cheese

• Egg yolks I deemed innocent (and they mostly were)

What I created wasn’t just a mash. It was a metaphor.
A reminder that even well-intentioned things can carry hidden weight.
That sometimes the spike doesn’t come from what you did wrong—but from what you didn’t think to question.

🌀 Healing, It Turns Out, Has a Sense of Humor

This is how blood sugar teaches:

Not through lectures, but with numbers.

And that night, the mashed cauliflower whispered something important:

Healing isn’t about having the answers. It’s about being willing to listen.

So I did.

And I laughed.

Because how poetic is it to be humbled by a bowl of mashed vegetables?

🌿 The New Recipe

The next night, the cauliflower stayed in the fridge.
Instead, I roasted cabbage with olive oil and lemon.
The numbers thanked me.
So did my husband.
And me?
I thanked the cauliflower.
For lying to me.
For teaching me.
For reminding me that nothing—not even health food—should be taken at face value.