My son, John is visiting this week, and several times my heart has thrilled to hear him utter four little words, “I’ll make dinner tonight.” I’ve decided John and I have a generation gap when it comes to food. He’s very particular about what he eats, and he always begins his meal preparation by pulling out the cutting board and chopping vegetables. I hear his rhythmic chopping in the kitchen and am reminded of poet May Sarton’s attempt to eat healthier after her breast cancer diagnosis. She soon became frustrated with the monotonous and time-consuming task of cutting up vegetables.
One day John riffled through my pantry and commented. “Mom, I’m a little concerned about the way you eat.”
“What’s wrong with how I eat?” “Too many chemicals and processed foods.” He gazed at the canned soups and boxes of artificially sweetened Jell-O on my pantry shelves. “You should eat more fresh, whole, and organic: kale and brown rice…” “Rice? Rice is a carb! Rice will end up on my hips!” I understood what my son was trying to tell me, but lately I’ve felt dazed and confused trying to sift through all the conflicting information about diet and food politics. I just saw online the Environmental Working Group’s annual overview of fruits and vegetables that contain the most and least pesticides: the “Dirty Dozen” and the “Clean Fifteen.” Though blueberries are “dirty” they have a high vitamin content, and “clean” watermelon is loaded with sugar. The media is constantly reminding us of the dire consequences of everything we put in our mouth: it either has too much corn syrup or not enough probiotic value. I’m used to worrying over my gut size, but now I have to think about my gut bacteria, too. And no one in the food industry makes suggestions anymore. They yell: "Eat This, Not That!" (the name of a popular diet book and website).
Eating seemed so much simpler in the good old days. I remember a time when I relished fried chicken, meatloaf, and a nice piece of cherry pie made with a rich, flaky crust.
Years ago we used to have dinner out with friends at the Black Angus Steak House in Boise. My filet mignon was thick and juicy. There was sour cream on my Idaho baked potato, and I always ordered a salad with croutons and ranch dressing. Back then my metabolism easily burned through all those calories. It never crossed my mind to be concerned about food dyes or antibiotics in my meat. I was blissfully uneducated about food, and took unvarnished pleasure in eating. As it turns out, taking pleasure in the food we eat is not only a natural inclination, but also an important factor when it comes to motivating us to eat right.
The National Institute of Health recently published a study saying people won’t eat healthy foods just because it's better for them. They’ll eat healthier if the food taste good.
I thought of a story I recently read about a man who lost weight when he became more mindful of what he ate. He said one day he was hungry and stopped himself from grabbing junk food. He considered which would give him longer-lasting pleasure, a bag of potato chips or a savory fish taco. “Guess how old your grandmother is?” I asked John still feeling defensive over his comment about the food I eat. “Didn’t she just celebrate her 90th birthday?” “Yes, and do you know how she got that old? She ate baloney sandwiches on anemic-looking white bread all through the 1960’s.” John wisely didn’t respond. Later, he was back in my good graces when he once again made our dinner. At the table, he set before me a big bowl of quinoa, leafy greens, and feta cheese with some kind of sauce poured over the top. “What’s this?” I looked up at him. “Take a bite. You’ll like it.” “Hmmm…that’s delicious!” John grinned. “Real food, Mom. Real food.”
All reactions:
2Aubrey Hooley and Sandy Jackson