Instincto and Digestion

The first reaction when raw vegetables are mentioned is that they are less digestible than cooked vegetables. According to dieticians and gourmets, cooking is a harmless pre-digestion, sparing the stomach a tedious task. Raw food was only good for cavemen who had nothing else to do but hunt, gather, and digest. Without cooking, our primate brain would never have had enough energy to conquer the wonders of civilization. And long live the Creator’s greatest achievement, the only one intelligent enough to reach the top of the ladder.

This reasoning suits us, but it doesn’t stand up to scrutiny. First objection: the genetic structures of the stomach date back to times when cooking didn’t exist. The stomach of chimpanzees is hardly different from ours. Stomachs everywhere have always digested raw food, and they have good reason to have adapted so well. Logically, if there’s a difference in performance, it would likely be due to a lack of training: by repeatedly re-digesting pre-digested food, the organ might have lost some of its natural tone. Experience proves the opposite: the transition from cooked to raw food, contrary to what Lévi-Strauss might say, poses no digestive problems whatsoever. On the contrary, the first instincto meals are a relief for sluggish stomachs. Old discomforts and other digestive tract disorders, from heartburn to constipation, become a thing of the past.

So how is it that so many wise and influential people talk about cooking in terms of pre-digestion? [Biochemistry teaches us that molecules shaken by heat collide and break into smaller pieces. This is pretty much what our digestive enzymes do. Part of the work would be done in the pot, and the stomach would only be responsible for the finishing touches.

It’s obvious: heat is nothing more than an increase in the speed of molecules; colliding more violently, they break down, leaving us with simpler, partially degraded molecules. Unfortunately, there are different kinds of degradation. Molecules don’t necessarily break down in the same place that enzymes would. Worse still, by colliding randomly, they recombine to form all sorts of new molecules. Our enzymes have no reason to be genetically adapted to these new molecules. Thus, digestion begins, but is complicated by a problem that has nothing to do with the natural pathways of animal nutrition.

Another major problem: cooking consists of making natural foods more palatable. It therefore encourages us to consume foods that wouldn’t be appealing in their raw state—that is, foods we wouldn’t eat under natural conditions, or at least not in the same quantities. So, foods that don’t necessarily meet the body’s needs. We could never swallow the same quantities of potatoes, grains, or beans without preparation. It’s no wonder the digestive system rejects them raw: it protects us against foods that aren’t natural for our bodies, at least not in such quantities. Its only language is dyspepsia, meaning slowed digestion, discomfort, nausea, pain, flatulence, etc.

In short, cooking has a dual effect: making us eat foods that aren’t suitable for us, and making them more digestible. If we compare the digestibility of the same foods in their raw state, and in the same quantities, cooking offers an advantage. But if we consider the digestive work required by natural foods that meet the body’s needs, the advantage lies overwhelmingly with raw foods.

In fact, it’s seasoned raw foods, what we commonly call “crudités,” that cause the most digestive problems: the alliesthetic barrier doesn’t work with flavors “enhanced” by salt, vinegar, or other condiments. We consume quantities of greens or vegetables that exceed our digestive capacity, so it’s no wonder the stomach protests vigorously.

In all cases, digestive discomfort signals the body’s rejection, and this rejection isn’t random: eating too many starchy foods leads to obesity, too many tomatoes to kidney stones, and so on.

The paradox stems from comparing apples and oranges: alliesthetic regulation is an integral part of a natural diet and, by its very nature, resolves the problem of digestion. Cooking is therefore a form of pre-digestion, but it has the drawback of causing the body to absorb foods that are unsuitable for its digestive and metabolic capacities, leading to overload and [intoxinations.

Other factors can disrupt digestive mechanisms. Other factors can disrupt digestive processes: inappropriate food combinations, a limited food selection that doesn’t allow for proper choices, chemical residues, insufficient ripeness, and other forms of denaturation.

When practiced correctly, with a good quality and sufficiently varied diet, and careful attention to gut-related cues and satiety signals, the instinctive approach is free from digestive problems. This is true except during periods of detoxination, as the elimination of previously accumulated toxins can temporarily inhibit digestive processes.

Conversely, the slightest discomfort or unpleasantness—lack of saliva, difficulty swallowing, choking, a feeling of pressure in the stomach, an aftertaste, smelly belching or regurgitation, nausea, vomiting, hiccups, flatulence, a feeling of bloating, gas, diarrhea, constipation, or foul-smelling stools—is always the result of an error: either a current or a past one.

Practical Advice

The quality of digestion is, in the long term, a prerequisite for health. Digestive overload increases the number of poorly digested molecules entering the bloodstream, with the potential consequences for the digestive, immune, and nervous systems.

It is recommended to remain attentive to all signs of digestive upset, even mild ones, including:

If one or more of these signs are present, the cause of the problem must be investigated immediately. The main factors to consider are:

If signs of indigestion persist, a medical examination is necessary to determine the cause.