Writing in yesterday's Times, Tara Parker-Pope reported on studies done in California and Italy about how rats reacted when given a high-fat drink:

"The body immediately began to release natural marijuanalike chemicals in the gut that kept them craving more. ... The compounds serve a variety of functions, including regulation of mood and stress response, appetite, and movement of food through the intestines. Notably, they were released only when the rats tasted fat, not the sugar or protein."

One key point is that when the body's chemistry is thus activated, we are driven to act in ways we wouldn't freely choose — in this case, to eat past when we've taken on sufficient fuel.

This truth is very important to recognize, for several reasons. For people who tut-tut toward fat people for being morally weak, it's important to know that for some people, there's more at work than just moral fiber.

This clever little comment ran in the Chicago Tribune; I saw it courtesy of Marion Nestle's blog...

I have not read it yet because it's just out, but I feel I can recommend Nancy Appleton's new book, "Killer Colas, The Hard Truth About Soft Drinks," on the strength of her earlier work, including her 1988 book, "Lick the Sugar Habit," and

My reaction to this Daily Mail article has a couple of parts, making it worth more than only a tweet but (I hope) less than essay-length bloviation. Yes, I do go on.

The story is about celebs whose bodies might suggest an undereating problem, so they go out of their way to eat big in public while drastically restricting food in private. There's even an acronym for it — the DIPE, a documented instance of public eating. Seriously.

So, this one's not about eating, either. It's a cranky rant about a car renter's price-gouging policy, and I want to use my scintilla of social-media influence to embarrass them.

I've expressed this idea before; sorry if it's a repeat for you: I'm moved to say it again while reading Anne Katherine's "How To Make Almost Any Diet Work."

Many people scoff when I suggest that flour or processed sugar is akin to heroin or cocaine, because the latter pair are "really addictive," not to mention illegal. "Everybody knows" they have no similarity.

I'm vacationing for a few days in Glendo, Wyoming, with family, and had a very interesting conversation with my sister-in-law. (How's that for a compelling lead? Just chomping to read more, aren'cha? But to my strong surprise, it was right on topic for this blog.)

Serena is a fascinating woman with more than a few demons who has tried suicide too many times. Worse, she's gotten better at it over the years, progressing from what some people might call "cries for help" to well-thought-out attempts that failed through flukes. It is serious frickin' business, and she comes to mind whenever the phone rings in the night. (Serena's not her real name, I have her permission to tell this story, and I asked her to review it before publishing.)

I ran across this in my web travels and wanted to share, in support of the filmmaker's goal. I'm fairly sure my family will make a financial donation as well, once we've had a chance to discuss it.

Welcome to the latest round of “10 words or less,” in which I ask brief questions and ask for brief answers. This installment is part of a group of interviews in advance of the Boston Museum of Science’s “Let’s Talk About Food” festival this weekend. Today’s subject is one of New England’s foremost farmers, who’ll join chefs Frank McClelland of L’Espalier, Franco Carubia of Sel de la Terre, and others in a discussion and demonstration about farm-fresh ingredients. Remember, please: No counting. 10 words is a goal, not a rule, and it’s not that easy!

Name Jim Wilson (above left, during a tour of his farm)
Age 56
Residence Lexington
Business Wilson Farm, which grows and sells produce — and lots of other goods — in Lexington, Mass., and Litchfield, N.H.

I've been pimping for the Museum of Science's "Let's Talk About Food" festival because I think it's going to be terrific: It's at a great spot on the Charles, with tons of exhibitors, dollops of foodie celebrity, meaningful discussion on issues that matter to everyone, and even a brilliantly conceived "food-truck food court." Oh, and it's free.