The playground bully hates his victim’s guts. The fisherman guts his prey. The soldier guts it out. Strong stuff. It takes guts to deploy the word guts.
Now guts is going glam. Against all odds, it’s in.
Whole books are devoted to cultivating a happy, healthy gut, one flush with microbes eager to churn mere food into energy, health and vitality. Not just books, but cookbooks.
I tried. I spent a week blending brews that promised a gut teeming with bacteria. Instead I got taste buds steaming with resentment. Who actually craves kefir, kombucha or filmjolk?
So I switched to blending foods I actually like – tomatoes, peppers and garlic – into a shot of cool gazpacho. I have no idea if the invisible army approves. But I do.