Latest news with #carrotcake
WebMD
3 days ago
- Health
- WebMD
Diabetes Detective Work: Dawn Phenomenon
File this column under 'Life with Type 2 diabetes can be a pain.' Yesterday, my glucometer flashed a message to tell me that over the past week, my morning blood sugars had been trending upwards. This was followed by a programmed question directed at me: 'Has anything changed?' Look, I know the notification was purely informative and that the inquiry made sense. After all, consistent high blood sugars over time can lead to those nasty complications we all want to avoid. And yet, for some reason, at that moment, the question seemed less of an innocent question and more of an assault. 'No!' I shouted at her screen (I long ago determined that my meter is 'she/her.'). 'Nothing's changed. Everything is the same.' 'Is someone here?' my husband asked as he entered the kitchen. Ignoring his question, I stonily reviewed my activities and intake over the past week. As usual, I consumed a lowish number of healthy carbs, enough to fuel my hour-a-day exercise plan and keep my weight in a good range. Of course, there may have been a slice or two of carrot cake with sugary cream cheese icing for my son's 33 rd birthday. And a little more cake on Mother's Day. Plus a glass or two of prosecco. But nothing horrific. Overall, I decided my exercise, hydration, medications and diet was mostly on target. 'Did I do something wrong?' my husband asked. Once again, I brushed him aside. In diabetes detective mode, I went to find my computer and typed a quick note to my trusty endo. Did he have any theories why my morning sugars had suddenly spiraled upwards? 'Could be the dawn phenomenon,' he wrote. 'Early in the morning, say between 3 and 8 a.m., everyone – with or without diabetes – has a natural increase in hormones that cause the liver to release glucose (energy) to help you to wake up. 'For people without diabetes, the pancreas produces insulin to combat any excess glucose. But for people with diabetes, their bodies may not produce enough insulin to meet the extra burst of sugar, which can cause hyperglycemia or high blood sugar.' 'Arghh,' I responded. Back at the kitchen table, I considered my next move. I had heard of the dawn phenomenon, but despite my interest in most things diabetes, it had never captured my attention, in part because it had never been my problem. 'Can I help?' my long-suffering spouse asked. 'No,' I said. This time I left a kiss on his forehead as I went back to my computer. 'This is between me and my machine.' Coffee in hand, I opened Dr. Google to refresh my memory on the condition. It turned out that it's extremely common. And the symptoms of dawn phenomenon are pretty much the same as other episodes of high blood sugar: dry mouth, increased thirst, blurred vision, headaches, and more frequent trips to the bathroom to urinate. I also found that the dawn phenomenon isn't always to blame for a series of high morning blood sugars. Other factors can be at work, including taking too little medication that wears off early while you sleep or miscalculating how much medication you need to cover your carb vs. protein ratio at dinner. Not to mention consuming too many carbs before bedtime. What I was most interested in, of course, was how to stop my glucometer from asking invasive questions. Which meant finding a solution. Here, things got a bit trickier. For people who manage their Type 2 diabetes with a continuous glucose monitor (CGM) or take insulin via an insulin pump, the solution can be simple. A diagnosis of dawn phenomenon can be made by following the trend of high and lows recorded by the CGM and the flow of insulin can be adjusted accordingly. But for people who use a glucometer and don't take insulin, like me, a solution to the dawn phenomenon can require a bit of trial and error. After investigating the issue further with my endo, I was able to get a handle on the morning highs by adding a bit of evening exercise – a stroll around the block or a quick 10-minute stationary bike ride. Increasing my protein and reducing the amount of carbs at dinner also seemed to help keep my morning sugars in check. The tricky part is that while you can track your morning highs, there isn't a single way to anticipate and manage them. This means it can take a while to figure out what works for you. Which is, as I said earlier, a total pain. However, if you do get symptoms of the dawn phenomenon, don't despair. The key goal is to keep your A1C low, and by taking a proactive stance on high morning sugars, you're doing just that. Not to mention that once you get a handle on things, those pesky questions from a cranky glucometer might be a thing of the past.
New York Times
07-05-2025
- General
- New York Times
Empty Nesting Is Hard. This Carrot Cake Is Anything But.
For years, Genevieve Ko would make this dessert for her kids. Now that they're grown, she's streamlined it for them — and you. The whole point of carrot cake is to enjoy layers of tangy cream cheese frosting. Julia Gartland for The New York Times. Food Stylist: Samantha Seneviratne. By Genevieve Ko Genevieve Ko has baked more than 60 birthday cakes for her kids, including one shaped like a pirate ship. Published May 7, 2025 Updated May 7, 2025 On my first day as a line cook in a pastry kitchen, I was tasked with turning lemons into little bowls for housemade sorbet. I angled a sharp paring knife from the edge of a lemon half toward its center, then circled the knife to slice out a cone of seedy yellow flesh. Cupping that emptied half, I scooped out what remained with a metal spoon. Once the glassy sheets of membranes were gone, I had to keep going, gently running the spoon against the pith to create the thinnest possible shell without tearing the peel. That continuous scraping, the gentle pressure to excavate everything inside: That's what empty nesting has felt like. Somewhere behind my rib cage, some core is being hollowed out, and the rasping feels especially close on occasions like Mother's Day. When they were young, my kids felt pressure from relatives, teachers and the America around them to uphold the breakfast-in-bed tradition that started in the 1930s, about 15 years after Mother's Day was declared a national holiday. Aside from the fact that I'm not a breakfast eater, I'm also uninterested in doing twice as many dishes and washing syrup stains out of the duvet cover. I'm not alone — according to a 2017 Zagat poll, only 4 percent of mothers actually want breakfast in bed. But I may be alone in wanting to spend the day cooking. When I was just a year out of college, I realized that I could turn a lifelong love of food into a career and began apprenticing with chefs and a food writer. But, shortly after, I found out I was pregnant with twins, a decade before I'd planned to have kids. For years, on the holiday honoring motherhood, I tried to reclaim the childless trajectory I lost, air-drying duck to roast, slow-simmering fruit into preserves, in a peaceful kitchen. It felt like a selfish act twisted with the perpetual selflessness of nurturing. For the twins' first birthday, I created my first original baking recipe, a layered cake crammed with grated carrot and sweetened more with applesauce than sugar since it was going to be their inaugural taste of the stuff. They shoved handfuls into their mouths, howled with happiness, and it was then that I understood the joy of motherhood. The simplest way to frost carrot cake is to leave the sides unadorned, but they can be slathered with icing as well. Julia Gartland for The New York Times. Food Stylist: Samantha Seneviratne. Through the years of chasing toddlers with a newborn slung to my chest, playing their favorite yet impossibly boring board game (Life), driving to school, practices and play dates, I spent Mother's Day laboring alone over the long, hard dishes I loved but couldn't make for work or home. Now that they're all in college, all I want is to feed them again, to be crowded against the counter, hearing them laugh and bicker, wiping up mysterious sticky patches. But no one is clinging to my legs anymore, and, apparently, my long 'welcome home' hugs come off as pretty desperate. So I try to play it cool, not showing too much excitement when my youngest described craving carrot cake for the cream cheese frosting because, isn't that the best part? That's when I knew I'd taught them well and when I started plotting out a recipe that maximizes the frosting-to-cake ratio by baking the batter in a single half-sheet pan. Doing so eliminates the need for multiple cake pans and trying to slice tall rounds into flat layers. Instead, the big rectangle is easily cut into three smaller ones for easy stacking and an impressive tier with plenty of creamy frosting in every forkful. When my (taller-than-me) youngest tasted the frosting and suggested more lemon juice and salt to amplify its tanginess, I tried to not visibly tear up with pride. I was happy, really I was, when they couldn't stay to eat the cake but had just enough time to bring it to their classmates who 'destroyed it.' It's as it should be. And as the older two graduate from college, now only a few years younger than I was when they were born, I feed them by giving them starter recipes, like this cake, to prepare on their own. Texting recipe links and receiving photos of finished dishes in return don't fill the home's new hush, but learning to experience that as progress is its own celebration of motherhood. Follow New York Times Cooking on Instagram , Facebook , YouTube , TikTok and Pinterest . Get regular updates from New York Times Cooking, with recipe suggestions, cooking tips and shopping advice .
