I didn’t get really good at building balanced meals until years after I kicked my eating disorder. During early recovery, what helped a lot was paying better attention to what my body was asking for: fats and carbs, and even animal protein after years of vegetarianism.
What helped me add a sustainable and lasting layer to my recovery was figuring out a mashup of intuitive eating and macronutrient/micronutrient education that resonated with me (taking a nutrition coaching course through Precision Nutrition was eye-opening.) I learned how to build a balanced plate based on a combination of my nutritional needs and my emotional needs.
In short, here’s how to build a balanced meal:
- Consider what you’re hungry for
- Choose protein(s), carbohydrate(s), fat(s), plant color(s) and a craving
- Add a textural topping or side
- Thoughtfully plate your food
- If your partner is cooking, communicate to them what you need
Because I was yo-yoing for so long in my disordered years, it was hard to remember what it felt like to be comfortably satisfied.
When I started consciously building balanced meals, I started to understand that sweet balance of fulfilling my nutritional needs while fulfilling my emotional needs.
It’s a balance of: What do I need + what do I want?
While several steps are involved, building balanced meals can quickly become a habit.
Step 1: Consider what you’re hungry for.
Food is emotional. We want things on our plate just like we want things in our lives. So I must ask myself: What is my combined body and brain asking for? Chicken? Pasta? Now’s the time to make sure they end up on my plate. Now’s the time to avoid creating a restriction mindset by acting like I “shouldn’t” have it. I should, because I want it. By allowing myself that dish (vs. obsessing over it), especially in the context of a balanced plate, I’m less likely to binge on it.
Step 2: Choose protein(s), carbohydrate(s), fat(s), plant color(s) and a craving.
Generally this covers macronutrients and micronutrients, and it helps to stick to the basics when making a behavior change. In order to develop skills around making better choices, it helped me to learn the basics around fueling my body – what are my macronutrient and micronutrient needs?
While each of the macronutrients – the nutrients our bodies need the largest quantity of – have an array of functions, here’s the short list of how I like to remember them:
- Protein helps build and repair muscle tissues.
- Carbohydrates supply me with my body’s preferred energy source, which is glucose.
- Fat helps my body absorb and process certain vitamins, while improving satiety.
And then we have my personal favorite: micronutrients! While the body technically needs fewer of these compared to macronutrients, the vitamins and minerals in the micronutrients category are critical to long-term health and well-being. And yes, many micronutrients can be found in macronutrients, but when considering adding micronutrients to a plate, this is where plant color comes in.
And with those basics in mind, this is what I put on my plate:
- Protein(s)
- Carbohydrate (s)
- Fat (s)
- A cluster of plant color
- Something I’m craving
Example plate:
- A chicken breast
- A scoop of quinoa
- Feta cheese
- Broccoli
- A toasty wedge of sourdough
Over time, I learned to lean into variety and to experiment with what quantities of each feel best in my body and, honestly, that can change day to day. I notice if I’ve had a particularly difficult workout, I crave a bigger portion of carbohydrates – restock my energy, quick! If it’s summer and I’m losing a lot of water in my workouts, I’m craving a bigger portion of plant color – hydrate me! It’s about paying attention to what makes sense for me day-to-day.
Step 3: Add a textural topping or side.
What’s missing that sounds satisfying to me? Something crunchy? Something doughy? Something crispy? Beyond macronutrient and micronutrient nourishment, the experience of food is part of the satisfaction factor.
Take the example plate above. I have a nice balance on my plate, but I might still be missing the mark with satisfaction. Texture can help. This crispy or crunchy or doughy – whatever strikes you. I could use more crunch – so perhaps I’ll add chopped almonds to my broccoli.
Step 4: Thoughtfully plate your food.
Whether I’m building a meal or building a snack, I put it on a plate. If I am standing in the kitchen with a fork and a mess of ingredients (even if they fulfill my macronutrient and micronutrient checklist), I’m setting myself up for failure with trigger behaviors. Standing in the kitchen, I am signaling to my brain that I have a bottomless pit of food in front of me with no clear end in sight. A physical plate signifies a finite amount of food that I am about to enjoy.
Additionally, thoughtful plating or ambiance can transform my experience. It can signal a sense of: I’m creating something special for myself, even if it’s just lunchtime. I am not just creating a balanced meal, I am creating a nourishing experience. Maybe I’ll add a sprig of cilantro or light a candle on the table. If I’m serving a hot meal, I’ll heat my plate in the microwave for 20 seconds before placing food on it. Suddenly, this is one cozy experience to tuck into.
Step 5: As needed, communicate to your partner what you need.
If you’re like me, you’re not the one in the household who makes most of the dinners. I married a man who can cook. And as lucky as I am, it’s still helpful to be communicative about my evolving needs with meals. My husband, for example, can often be perfectly satisfied with a carbohydrate as a meal, such as a sexy bowl of spaghetti with meatless marinara. I love that, too – but my nutrition-educated brain demands: Where’s the protein? Where’s the green stuff?
He’s aware of my eating disorder history and he knows the nutritional bits and bobs that I’ve learned. I’ve made a point to tell him what I’m looking for in a meal: see “balanced plate.” He rolls with it. He’s gotten into the habit of telling me things like: I’m making potatoes and green beans – what protein are you in the mood for? To which I’ll reply: That marinated chicken in a bag from Trader Joe’s, please! Bam. Easy.
If he forgets to ask, that’s ok, too. He might say: I’m making spaghetti tonight. To which I’ll say, sounds amazing, do you mind if I toss together a salad to go with it? To which he’ll say, great.
It’s a simple communication of needs. And it can keep us both in the habit of thinking: How will I build a balanced meal? There’s a dual benefit here.
