Have I been doing myself a disservice? I began to rethink my smoothie habit about a year ago, when I heard a segment on the Good Food podcast featuring Robert Lustig, a pediatric endocrinologist at the University of California-San Francisco, who argued that our bodies absorb blended-fruit sugars differently than sugars from whole fruit. Lustig is a high-profile proponent of the theory that excess sugar consumption drives high rates of obesity, type II diabetes, and other diet-related conditions. He was a major source for a 2012 Mother Jones exposé of the sugar industry’s lobbying might.
I recently called Lustig to hear more. To understand his smoothie skepticism, think of, say, an apple. In its whole form, it’s a tasty bundle of sugar, beneficial nutrients like vitamins and phytochemicals, and fiber, the plant matter that our bodies can’t metabolize but that drives proper digestion. Whole fruit contains two kinds of fiber: the soluble kind, which dissolves easily in water, and its insoluble counterpart, which doesn’t. According to Lustig, the two kinds of fiber work synergistically to “form a gel within the small intestine” that “acts as a barrier” slowing the rate at which your body absorbs nutrients.
And “that’s a good thing” when you eat an apple, he said, because it buffers the rate at which the apple’s sugar hits the liver. “That means you won’t overwhelm the liver’s capacity to digest the sugar, and the liver won’t turn the excess sugar into fat,” he explained.
However, when you puree that same apple into a smoothie, the mechanical force of a blender’s blades “sheers the insoluble fiber into tiny pieces” and functionally destroys it, he said. With the insoluble fiber gone, the soluble stuff can’t alone form the barrier that slows absorption, and the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple. And just like when you drink soda, that sugary jolt can trigger an insulin response, and thus push your body in the direction of metabolic conditions, including unwanted weight gain, insulin resistance, or nonalcoholic fatty liver disease.
With the insoluble fiber gone, the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple.
Now, unlike sodas, smoothies do contain valuable fruit-based nutrients and soluble fiber, which delivers important benefits even when separated from its insoluble counterpart. For example, Lustig said, bits of soluble fiber “act as scrubbies” to purge the colon of potentially cancerous cells. But in sugar terms, he said, smoothies behave in our bodies a lot like soda.
When I asked for more research on the topic, Lustig sent me to this 2009 paper by Penn State researchers. The study, it turns out, doesn’t directly bear on Lustig’s claim that pureeing fruit destroys insoluble fiber. But its results are interesting nonetheless. The researchers gave 58 adults a premeal snack consisting of 125 calories worth of either whole apple slices, applesauce, apple juice tweaked with soluble fiber, or regular apple juice. A control group got no snack at all. The subjects were then treated to an all-you-can-eat lunch, and the researchers recorded how rapidly they reported becoming full and how many total calories they consumed (data here).
People who snacked on whole apples ended up consuming, on average, 15 percent fewer calories than the control group; the people who ate applesauce—essentially, blended apples—ate just 6 percent fewer calories than the control; and the group who got fiber-fortified apple juice consumed 1 percent fewer calories than the nonsnackers. Drinkers of straight apple juice—essentially liquefied apples with insoluble fiber filtered out—actually took in 3 percent more total calories than the nonsnackers. In other words, whole apples essentially took the edge off hunger and inspired subjects to eat less, and juice, even when goosed with added fiber, didn’t have much effect at all.
Have I been doing myself a disservice? I began to rethink my smoothie habit about a year ago, when I heard a segment on the Good Food podcast featuring Robert Lustig, a pediatric endocrinologist at the University of California-San Francisco, who argued that our bodies absorb blended-fruit sugars differently than sugars from whole fruit. Lustig is a high-profile proponent of the theory that excess sugar consumption drives high rates of obesity, type II diabetes, and other diet-related conditions. He was a major source for a 2012 Mother Jones exposé of the sugar industry’s lobbying might.
I recently called Lustig to hear more. To understand his smoothie skepticism, think of, say, an apple. In its whole form, it’s a tasty bundle of sugar, beneficial nutrients like vitamins and phytochemicals, and fiber, the plant matter that our bodies can’t metabolize but that drives proper digestion. Whole fruit contains two kinds of fiber: the soluble kind, which dissolves easily in water, and its insoluble counterpart, which doesn’t. According to Lustig, the two kinds of fiber work synergistically to “form a gel within the small intestine” that “acts as a barrier” slowing the rate at which your body absorbs nutrients.
And “that’s a good thing” when you eat an apple, he said, because it buffers the rate at which the apple’s sugar hits the liver. “That means you won’t overwhelm the liver’s capacity to digest the sugar, and the liver won’t turn the excess sugar into fat,” he explained.
However, when you puree that same apple into a smoothie, the mechanical force of a blender’s blades “sheers the insoluble fiber into tiny pieces” and functionally destroys it, he said. With the insoluble fiber gone, the soluble stuff can’t alone form the barrier that slows absorption, and the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple. And just like when you drink soda, that sugary jolt can trigger an insulin response, and thus push your body in the direction of metabolic conditions, including unwanted weight gain, insulin resistance, or nonalcoholic fatty liver disease.
With the insoluble fiber gone, the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple.
Now, unlike sodas, smoothies do contain valuable fruit-based nutrients and soluble fiber, which delivers important benefits even when separated from its insoluble counterpart. For example, Lustig said, bits of soluble fiber “act as scrubbies” to purge the colon of potentially cancerous cells. But in sugar terms, he said, smoothies behave in our bodies a lot like soda.
When I asked for more research on the topic, Lustig sent me to this 2009 paper by Penn State researchers. The study, it turns out, doesn’t directly bear on Lustig’s claim that pureeing fruit destroys insoluble fiber. But its results are interesting nonetheless. The researchers gave 58 adults a premeal snack consisting of 125 calories worth of either whole apple slices, applesauce, apple juice tweaked with soluble fiber, or regular apple juice. A control group got no snack at all. The subjects were then treated to an all-you-can-eat lunch, and the researchers recorded how rapidly they reported becoming full and how many total calories they consumed (data here).
People who snacked on whole apples ended up consuming, on average, 15 percent fewer calories than the control group; the people who ate applesauce—essentially, blended apples—ate just 6 percent fewer calories than the control; and the group who got fiber-fortified apple juice consumed 1 percent fewer calories than the nonsnackers. Drinkers of straight apple juice—essentially liquefied apples with insoluble fiber filtered out—actually took in 3 percent more total calories than the nonsnackers. In other words, whole apples essentially took the edge off hunger and inspired subjects to eat less, and juice, even when goosed with added fiber, didn’t have much effect at all.
Lustig’s ideas are not proven and are not mainstream.
Now I know you're nuts! Lustig is respected around the freaking world for his work in pediatric endocrinology. The only people who reject his presention of the science are sugar industry hacks, which is what you must be. Just another big tobacco psycho buying your life with other people's suffering and death. All hail Domino Foods!
Have I been doing myself a disservice? I began to rethink my smoothie habit about a year ago, when I heard a segment on the Good Food podcast featuring Robert Lustig, a pediatric endocrinologist at the University of California-San Francisco, who argued that our bodies absorb blended-fruit sugars differently than sugars from whole fruit. Lustig is a high-profile proponent of the theory that excess sugar consumption drives high rates of obesity, type II diabetes, and other diet-related conditions. He was a major source for a 2012 Mother Jones exposé of the sugar industry’s lobbying might.
I recently called Lustig to hear more. To understand his smoothie skepticism, think of, say, an apple. In its whole form, it’s a tasty bundle of sugar, beneficial nutrients like vitamins and phytochemicals, and fiber, the plant matter that our bodies can’t metabolize but that drives proper digestion. Whole fruit contains two kinds of fiber: the soluble kind, which dissolves easily in water, and its insoluble counterpart, which doesn’t. According to Lustig, the two kinds of fiber work synergistically to “form a gel within the small intestine” that “acts as a barrier” slowing the rate at which your body absorbs nutrients.
And “that’s a good thing” when you eat an apple, he said, because it buffers the rate at which the apple’s sugar hits the liver. “That means you won’t overwhelm the liver’s capacity to digest the sugar, and the liver won’t turn the excess sugar into fat,” he explained.
However, when you puree that same apple into a smoothie, the mechanical force of a blender’s blades “sheers the insoluble fiber into tiny pieces” and functionally destroys it, he said. With the insoluble fiber gone, the soluble stuff can’t alone form the barrier that slows absorption, and the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple. And just like when you drink soda, that sugary jolt can trigger an insulin response, and thus push your body in the direction of metabolic conditions, including unwanted weight gain, insulin resistance, or nonalcoholic fatty liver disease.
With the insoluble fiber gone, the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple.
Now, unlike sodas, smoothies do contain valuable fruit-based nutrients and soluble fiber, which delivers important benefits even when separated from its insoluble counterpart. For example, Lustig said, bits of soluble fiber “act as scrubbies” to purge the colon of potentially cancerous cells. But in sugar terms, he said, smoothies behave in our bodies a lot like soda.
When I asked for more research on the topic, Lustig sent me to this 2009 paper by Penn State researchers. The study, it turns out, doesn’t directly bear on Lustig’s claim that pureeing fruit destroys insoluble fiber. But its results are interesting nonetheless. The researchers gave 58 adults a premeal snack consisting of 125 calories worth of either whole apple slices, applesauce, apple juice tweaked with soluble fiber, or regular apple juice. A control group got no snack at all. The subjects were then treated to an all-you-can-eat lunch, and the researchers recorded how rapidly they reported becoming full and how many total calories they consumed (data here).
People who snacked on whole apples ended up consuming, on average, 15 percent fewer calories than the control group; the people who ate applesauce—essentially, blended apples—ate just 6 percent fewer calories than the control; and the group who got fiber-fortified apple juice consumed 1 percent fewer calories than the nonsnackers. Drinkers of straight apple juice—essentially liquefied apples with insoluble fiber filtered out—actually took in 3 percent more total calories than the nonsnackers. In other words, whole apples essentially took the edge off hunger and inspired subjects to eat less, and juice, even when goosed with added fiber, didn’t have much effect at all.
Lustig’s ideas are not proven and are not mainstream.
Now I know you're nuts! Lustig is respected around the freaking world for his work in pediatric endocrinology. The only people who reject his presention of the science are sugar industry hacks, which is what you must be. Just another big tobacco psycho buying your life with other people's suffering and death. All hail Domino Foods!
Have I been doing myself a disservice? I began to rethink my smoothie habit about a year ago, when I heard a segment on the Good Food podcast featuring Robert Lustig, a pediatric endocrinologist at the University of California-San Francisco, who argued that our bodies absorb blended-fruit sugars differently than sugars from whole fruit. Lustig is a high-profile proponent of the theory that excess sugar consumption drives high rates of obesity, type II diabetes, and other diet-related conditions. He was a major source for a 2012 Mother Jones exposé of the sugar industry’s lobbying might.
I recently called Lustig to hear more. To understand his smoothie skepticism, think of, say, an apple. In its whole form, it’s a tasty bundle of sugar, beneficial nutrients like vitamins and phytochemicals, and fiber, the plant matter that our bodies can’t metabolize but that drives proper digestion. Whole fruit contains two kinds of fiber: the soluble kind, which dissolves easily in water, and its insoluble counterpart, which doesn’t. According to Lustig, the two kinds of fiber work synergistically to “form a gel within the small intestine” that “acts as a barrier” slowing the rate at which your body absorbs nutrients.
And “that’s a good thing” when you eat an apple, he said, because it buffers the rate at which the apple’s sugar hits the liver. “That means you won’t overwhelm the liver’s capacity to digest the sugar, and the liver won’t turn the excess sugar into fat,” he explained.
However, when you puree that same apple into a smoothie, the mechanical force of a blender’s blades “sheers the insoluble fiber into tiny pieces” and functionally destroys it, he said. With the insoluble fiber gone, the soluble stuff can’t alone form the barrier that slows absorption, and the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple. And just like when you drink soda, that sugary jolt can trigger an insulin response, and thus push your body in the direction of metabolic conditions, including unwanted weight gain, insulin resistance, or nonalcoholic fatty liver disease.
With the insoluble fiber gone, the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple.
Now, unlike sodas, smoothies do contain valuable fruit-based nutrients and soluble fiber, which delivers important benefits even when separated from its insoluble counterpart. For example, Lustig said, bits of soluble fiber “act as scrubbies” to purge the colon of potentially cancerous cells. But in sugar terms, he said, smoothies behave in our bodies a lot like soda.
When I asked for more research on the topic, Lustig sent me to this 2009 paper by Penn State researchers. The study, it turns out, doesn’t directly bear on Lustig’s claim that pureeing fruit destroys insoluble fiber. But its results are interesting nonetheless. The researchers gave 58 adults a premeal snack consisting of 125 calories worth of either whole apple slices, applesauce, apple juice tweaked with soluble fiber, or regular apple juice. A control group got no snack at all. The subjects were then treated to an all-you-can-eat lunch, and the researchers recorded how rapidly they reported becoming full and how many total calories they consumed (data here).
People who snacked on whole apples ended up consuming, on average, 15 percent fewer calories than the control group; the people who ate applesauce—essentially, blended apples—ate just 6 percent fewer calories than the control; and the group who got fiber-fortified apple juice consumed 1 percent fewer calories than the nonsnackers. Drinkers of straight apple juice—essentially liquefied apples with insoluble fiber filtered out—actually took in 3 percent more total calories than the nonsnackers. In other words, whole apples essentially took the edge off hunger and inspired subjects to eat less, and juice, even when goosed with added fiber, didn’t have much effect at all.
Lustig’s ideas are not proven and are not mainstream.
Now I know you're nuts! Lustig is respected around the freaking world for his work in pediatric endocrinology. The only people who reject his presention of the science are sugar industry hacks, which is what you must be. Just another big tobacco psycho buying your life with other people's suffering and death. All hail Domino Foods!
Why would the sugar industry care about anyone’s homemade smoothie which contains no added sugar from said industry?
(And applesauce is not like apples that have been blended. The apples in applesauce have been cooked for a long period of time. The study noted in this article doesn’t address blended fruit in a smoothie at all.)
Have I been doing myself a disservice? I began to rethink my smoothie habit about a year ago, when I heard a segment on the Good Food podcast featuring Robert Lustig, a pediatric endocrinologist at the University of California-San Francisco, who argued that our bodies absorb blended-fruit sugars differently than sugars from whole fruit. Lustig is a high-profile proponent of the theory that excess sugar consumption drives high rates of obesity, type II diabetes, and other diet-related conditions. He was a major source for a 2012 Mother Jones exposé of the sugar industry’s lobbying might.
I recently called Lustig to hear more. To understand his smoothie skepticism, think of, say, an apple. In its whole form, it’s a tasty bundle of sugar, beneficial nutrients like vitamins and phytochemicals, and fiber, the plant matter that our bodies can’t metabolize but that drives proper digestion. Whole fruit contains two kinds of fiber: the soluble kind, which dissolves easily in water, and its insoluble counterpart, which doesn’t. According to Lustig, the two kinds of fiber work synergistically to “form a gel within the small intestine” that “acts as a barrier” slowing the rate at which your body absorbs nutrients.
And “that’s a good thing” when you eat an apple, he said, because it buffers the rate at which the apple’s sugar hits the liver. “That means you won’t overwhelm the liver’s capacity to digest the sugar, and the liver won’t turn the excess sugar into fat,” he explained.
However, when you puree that same apple into a smoothie, the mechanical force of a blender’s blades “sheers the insoluble fiber into tiny pieces” and functionally destroys it, he said. With the insoluble fiber gone, the soluble stuff can’t alone form the barrier that slows absorption, and the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple. And just like when you drink soda, that sugary jolt can trigger an insulin response, and thus push your body in the direction of metabolic conditions, including unwanted weight gain, insulin resistance, or nonalcoholic fatty liver disease.
With the insoluble fiber gone, the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple.
Now, unlike sodas, smoothies do contain valuable fruit-based nutrients and soluble fiber, which delivers important benefits even when separated from its insoluble counterpart. For example, Lustig said, bits of soluble fiber “act as scrubbies” to purge the colon of potentially cancerous cells. But in sugar terms, he said, smoothies behave in our bodies a lot like soda.
When I asked for more research on the topic, Lustig sent me to this 2009 paper by Penn State researchers. The study, it turns out, doesn’t directly bear on Lustig’s claim that pureeing fruit destroys insoluble fiber. But its results are interesting nonetheless. The researchers gave 58 adults a premeal snack consisting of 125 calories worth of either whole apple slices, applesauce, apple juice tweaked with soluble fiber, or regular apple juice. A control group got no snack at all. The subjects were then treated to an all-you-can-eat lunch, and the researchers recorded how rapidly they reported becoming full and how many total calories they consumed (data here).
People who snacked on whole apples ended up consuming, on average, 15 percent fewer calories than the control group; the people who ate applesauce—essentially, blended apples—ate just 6 percent fewer calories than the control; and the group who got fiber-fortified apple juice consumed 1 percent fewer calories than the nonsnackers. Drinkers of straight apple juice—essentially liquefied apples with insoluble fiber filtered out—actually took in 3 percent more total calories than the nonsnackers. In other words, whole apples essentially took the edge off hunger and inspired subjects to eat less, and juice, even when goosed with added fiber, didn’t have much effect at all.
Lustig’s ideas are not proven and are not mainstream.
Now I know you're nuts! Lustig is respected around the freaking world for his work in pediatric endocrinology. The only people who reject his presention of the science are sugar industry hacks, which is what you must be. Just another big tobacco psycho buying your life with other people's suffering and death. All hail Domino Foods!
Why would the sugar industry care about anyone’s homemade smoothie which contains no added sugar from said industry?
(And applesauce is not like apples that have been blended. The apples in applesauce have been cooked for a long period of time. The study noted in this article doesn’t address blended fruit in a smoothie at all.)
I'm sorry for your limited intellect and your disordered personality. Not interested in playing your game of lying, denying, deflecting so you can WIN WIN WIN the argument, at least in your own messed up mind. You are no PhD in nutritional science and no medical doctor, that is very very clear to me since I've spent the last year reading volumes by both on these subjects. Go bathe in a smoothie, I don't care about your NAFLD and abbreviated life. I suspect some people in your own life won't miss you.
Have I been doing myself a disservice? I began to rethink my smoothie habit about a year ago, when I heard a segment on the Good Food podcast featuring Robert Lustig, a pediatric endocrinologist at the University of California-San Francisco, who argued that our bodies absorb blended-fruit sugars differently than sugars from whole fruit. Lustig is a high-profile proponent of the theory that excess sugar consumption drives high rates of obesity, type II diabetes, and other diet-related conditions. He was a major source for a 2012 Mother Jones exposé of the sugar industry’s lobbying might.
I recently called Lustig to hear more. To understand his smoothie skepticism, think of, say, an apple. In its whole form, it’s a tasty bundle of sugar, beneficial nutrients like vitamins and phytochemicals, and fiber, the plant matter that our bodies can’t metabolize but that drives proper digestion. Whole fruit contains two kinds of fiber: the soluble kind, which dissolves easily in water, and its insoluble counterpart, which doesn’t. According to Lustig, the two kinds of fiber work synergistically to “form a gel within the small intestine” that “acts as a barrier” slowing the rate at which your body absorbs nutrients.
And “that’s a good thing” when you eat an apple, he said, because it buffers the rate at which the apple’s sugar hits the liver. “That means you won’t overwhelm the liver’s capacity to digest the sugar, and the liver won’t turn the excess sugar into fat,” he explained.
However, when you puree that same apple into a smoothie, the mechanical force of a blender’s blades “sheers the insoluble fiber into tiny pieces” and functionally destroys it, he said. With the insoluble fiber gone, the soluble stuff can’t alone form the barrier that slows absorption, and the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple. And just like when you drink soda, that sugary jolt can trigger an insulin response, and thus push your body in the direction of metabolic conditions, including unwanted weight gain, insulin resistance, or nonalcoholic fatty liver disease.
With the insoluble fiber gone, the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple.
Now, unlike sodas, smoothies do contain valuable fruit-based nutrients and soluble fiber, which delivers important benefits even when separated from its insoluble counterpart. For example, Lustig said, bits of soluble fiber “act as scrubbies” to purge the colon of potentially cancerous cells. But in sugar terms, he said, smoothies behave in our bodies a lot like soda.
When I asked for more research on the topic, Lustig sent me to this 2009 paper by Penn State researchers. The study, it turns out, doesn’t directly bear on Lustig’s claim that pureeing fruit destroys insoluble fiber. But its results are interesting nonetheless. The researchers gave 58 adults a premeal snack consisting of 125 calories worth of either whole apple slices, applesauce, apple juice tweaked with soluble fiber, or regular apple juice. A control group got no snack at all. The subjects were then treated to an all-you-can-eat lunch, and the researchers recorded how rapidly they reported becoming full and how many total calories they consumed (data here).
People who snacked on whole apples ended up consuming, on average, 15 percent fewer calories than the control group; the people who ate applesauce—essentially, blended apples—ate just 6 percent fewer calories than the control; and the group who got fiber-fortified apple juice consumed 1 percent fewer calories than the nonsnackers. Drinkers of straight apple juice—essentially liquefied apples with insoluble fiber filtered out—actually took in 3 percent more total calories than the nonsnackers. In other words, whole apples essentially took the edge off hunger and inspired subjects to eat less, and juice, even when goosed with added fiber, didn’t have much effect at all.
Lustig’s ideas are not proven and are not mainstream.
Now I know you're nuts! Lustig is respected around the freaking world for his work in pediatric endocrinology. The only people who reject his presention of the science are sugar industry hacks, which is what you must be. Just another big tobacco psycho buying your life with other people's suffering and death. All hail Domino Foods!
Sure, he’s a respected pediatric endocrinologist, but his ideas about the toxicity of fructose have not been proven. His ideas may be proven at some time in the future, but they have not been at this time.
And the apple study tell us nothing about smoothies because smoothies are usually made with raw fruit, not fruit that has been slow cooked for hours as the apples in applesauce have been.
Have I been doing myself a disservice? I began to rethink my smoothie habit about a year ago, when I heard a segment on the Good Food podcast featuring Robert Lustig, a pediatric endocrinologist at the University of California-San Francisco, who argued that our bodies absorb blended-fruit sugars differently than sugars from whole fruit. Lustig is a high-profile proponent of the theory that excess sugar consumption drives high rates of obesity, type II diabetes, and other diet-related conditions. He was a major source for a 2012 Mother Jones exposé of the sugar industry’s lobbying might.
I recently called Lustig to hear more. To understand his smoothie skepticism, think of, say, an apple. In its whole form, it’s a tasty bundle of sugar, beneficial nutrients like vitamins and phytochemicals, and fiber, the plant matter that our bodies can’t metabolize but that drives proper digestion. Whole fruit contains two kinds of fiber: the soluble kind, which dissolves easily in water, and its insoluble counterpart, which doesn’t. According to Lustig, the two kinds of fiber work synergistically to “form a gel within the small intestine” that “acts as a barrier” slowing the rate at which your body absorbs nutrients.
And “that’s a good thing” when you eat an apple, he said, because it buffers the rate at which the apple’s sugar hits the liver. “That means you won’t overwhelm the liver’s capacity to digest the sugar, and the liver won’t turn the excess sugar into fat,” he explained.
However, when you puree that same apple into a smoothie, the mechanical force of a blender’s blades “sheers the insoluble fiber into tiny pieces” and functionally destroys it, he said. With the insoluble fiber gone, the soluble stuff can’t alone form the barrier that slows absorption, and the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple. And just like when you drink soda, that sugary jolt can trigger an insulin response, and thus push your body in the direction of metabolic conditions, including unwanted weight gain, insulin resistance, or nonalcoholic fatty liver disease.
With the insoluble fiber gone, the liver gets “pelted” by the sugar delivered by the blended apple.
Now, unlike sodas, smoothies do contain valuable fruit-based nutrients and soluble fiber, which delivers important benefits even when separated from its insoluble counterpart. For example, Lustig said, bits of soluble fiber “act as scrubbies” to purge the colon of potentially cancerous cells. But in sugar terms, he said, smoothies behave in our bodies a lot like soda.
When I asked for more research on the topic, Lustig sent me to this 2009 paper by Penn State researchers. The study, it turns out, doesn’t directly bear on Lustig’s claim that pureeing fruit destroys insoluble fiber. But its results are interesting nonetheless. The researchers gave 58 adults a premeal snack consisting of 125 calories worth of either whole apple slices, applesauce, apple juice tweaked with soluble fiber, or regular apple juice. A control group got no snack at all. The subjects were then treated to an all-you-can-eat lunch, and the researchers recorded how rapidly they reported becoming full and how many total calories they consumed (data here).
People who snacked on whole apples ended up consuming, on average, 15 percent fewer calories than the control group; the people who ate applesauce—essentially, blended apples—ate just 6 percent fewer calories than the control; and the group who got fiber-fortified apple juice consumed 1 percent fewer calories than the nonsnackers. Drinkers of straight apple juice—essentially liquefied apples with insoluble fiber filtered out—actually took in 3 percent more total calories than the nonsnackers. In other words, whole apples essentially took the edge off hunger and inspired subjects to eat less, and juice, even when goosed with added fiber, didn’t have much effect at all.
Lustig’s ideas are not proven and are not mainstream.
Now I know you're nuts! Lustig is respected around the freaking world for his work in pediatric endocrinology. The only people who reject his presention of the science are sugar industry hacks, which is what you must be. Just another big tobacco psycho buying your life with other people's suffering and death. All hail Domino Foods!
Why would the sugar industry care about anyone’s homemade smoothie which contains no added sugar from said industry?
(And applesauce is not like apples that have been blended. The apples in applesauce have been cooked for a long period of time. The study noted in this article doesn’t address blended fruit in a smoothie at all.)
I'm sorry for your limited intellect and your disordered personality. Not interested in playing your game of lying, denying, deflecting so you can WIN WIN WIN the argument, at least in your own messed up mind. You are no PhD in nutritional science and no medical doctor, that is very very clear to me since I've spent the last year reading volumes by both on these subjects. Go bathe in a smoothie, I don't care about your NAFLD and abbreviated life. I suspect some people in your own life won't miss you.
You do know there’s more than one person posting here, right?
I love fruit (though admittedly would choose other less he’s desserts if given the option). But I have prediabetes, so I really should limit fruit, and especially juice. I love fresh squeezed oj and do allow myself some.
I have one kid who will not eat fruit at all - strong food aversion, and another who loves fruit. I don’t have anyone in my family who gobbles pounds of fruits. That seems bizarre to me.
The worst part of your smoothie is the oat milk. That is our processed garbage that has somehow been sold as a healthy alternative to cows milk? No protein, no fat, straight carbs and sugar. It’s not milk in any sense.