The guides are all over the place. One site will say nothing processed (bye-bye oat milk) while the next is fine with tofu and plant milks. Some even allow “high quality” oils like avocado or peanut, when oil is one of the most processed things you can consume.
I’m planning to sit down with the book of Daniel myself because I want to know what Scripture actually says versus what random blogs claim, but I figured I’d ask here first for a starting point. Has anyone here done it and can share what “rules” you personally followed?
My rule was to stick with simple plant foods that had no added sweeteners or flavor enhancers. So baked potatoes with salsa and black beans, quinoa bowls, vegetable chili, fresh fruit, nuts, and plain hummus. Unsweetened oat milk and plain tofu worked too since the ingredient lists were short.
No extracted oils either. I cooked with water or vegetable broth instead. Writing the standard down beforehand helped. It kept me from getting stuck on gray areas instead of the actual point, which was making room for prayer and letting God show me what controls my appetite.
I finally quit the blogs and read Daniel. Short menu, and I can turn a grocery aisle into a theology debate.
I ate simple plants I could picture growing: apples, carrots, cabbage, sweet potatoes, barley, black-eyed peas, walnuts, a whole avocado. Water and unsweetened herbal tea instead of plant milk. Left tofu on the shelf, and skipped every extracted oil too (yes, even the avocado and peanut oils some blogs bless).
No meat, dairy, sweeteners, wine, or leavened bread either. Being hungry and a little less impressed with my own food rules made it easier to listen when I prayed.
I used to treat my fasts like a rulebook to perfect, but writing the standard down beforehand like you did finally freed me to pray instead of fretting over labels.
The hunger and being less impressed with my own rules went together for me too. When I kept meals that simple, I prayed, “Lord, let this hunger turn my attention toward You rather than toward perfect compliance.”
Leaving even the debated foods on the shelf showed me how quickly I can make control feel like faithfulness.
Writing the standard down beforehand. I wish someone had told me that before my first fast. I spent half of it standing in the grocery store debating whether some ingredient counted, and I’d burned all my mental energy on legalism instead of prayer.
The list on the fridge was scaffolding so my attention could go where it belonged. The line about letting God show you what controls your appetite hit home, because mine was my phone more than food. Haven’t tried the vegetable broth instead of oil thing. Did cooking that way stick after the fast ended, or did you go back to your usual routine?
The “what can I eat” question misses the point. The idea is to give up stuff you crave so you lean on God more. When you want the thing you gave up, that’s your cue to pray instead.
Getting legalistic about which oils count, or whether oat milk is allowed, defeats the purpose. Don’t let random blogs dictate the rules or turn it into something to feel proud about.
Daniel wasn’t making a diet plan. He was removing any chance of breaking faith, even accidentally. That’s what pushed me to look past fruits and vegetables.
If you’re set on the food fast specifically, the simple plant-based approach honors the original intent. I try to fill the time or mental space it frees up with prayer and Scripture instead of leaving it empty.
Daniel was a Jewish exile in Babylon around 605 BC. The king’s table almost certainly featured meat sacrificed to idols, along with foods that violated Mosaic law.
He was refusing to defile himself while his people suffered back home. If you’re reading Daniel for yourself rather than a blog’s ingredient list, that defilement angle might matter more than anything else.
Sit down with Daniel 1 and it becomes clear his reason wasn’t nutrition. He resolved not to defile himself with the king’s table, food likely tied to Babylon’s idols and to its claim on who he was.
John Piper’s A Hunger for God helped because he treats fasting as hungering for God rather than a self-improvement project.
A drop of olive oil in your lentils isn’t breaking Scripture. The “no oil” rule that a lot of blogs push comes from Daniel 10, the three-week fast. Verse 3 says he ate no pleasant bread, no meat or wine, and didn’t anoint himself at all. That anointing was oil rubbed on the skin, more like lotion than cooking oil.
Skipping extracted oils is still a fine personal choice. Daniel 1 is only ten days of vegetables and water. The 21-day version everyone does comes from chapter 10.
I’ve been cutting down on sugar this year anyway, so skipping anything sweet took barely any extra effort.
Kept it to fresh fruits and vegetables, plus beans and grains like barley. A handful of unsalted nuts helped whenever I needed something quick between meals.
Daniel stuck to water the whole time, so I did the same and skipped even plain juices.
That Matthew 6 verse about not making fasting obvious to others keeps me in check. Especially when I’m tempted to turn it into a performance or some endless comparison of whose rules are stricter.
The heart posture before God matters more than whether oat milk counts or which oil is high quality enough.
So when I catch myself wanting to broadcast my progress or debate food lists more than I pray, I know I’ve drifted from the actual purpose.