I am not what you would call a picky eater. I didn’t turn my nose or fork up at much.
My mother, like any self-respecting 1970s era parent, raised me on a diet of equal parts homemade yogurt, granola, wheat germ, boxed macaroni and cheese and Tang. She tried.
Later, like any teen blessed with the metabolism of a hummingbird, I ate any food that didn’t eat me first. Whole.
When I was growing up, we didn’t have documentaries exposing in graphic detail how unhealthy fast food was for us. We didn’t question how they could sell beef so cheap, or what part of a chicken constitutes the “nuggets.” Mothers and grandmothers routinely served cream-of-mushroom concoctions and casseroles. Jell-O was considered a sort of “salad.”
Pinterest recipes eschewing such travesty in favor of kale and quinoa in all things were not yet a twinkle in the eye. Foodies may not have been invented yet. As I’ve gotten older and every calorie not only counts but seems to stick to me like glue, I’ve gotten pickier about foods.
No cheap chocolate
This is the season for chocolate and sweets. Whether hearts or bunnies, my rule is that if the chocolate tastes like spoiled milk and wax, I’ll pass. Further, I don’t care if they are 700 percent off on the post Valentine’s Day sales, conversational candy hearts taste like sugar-coated dust. I bet with a little water and one of those you could patch drywall holes and repair plaster.
The people that enjoy these as anything more than decorative surely fall into the same suspicious group as people who actually eat Peeps or circus peanuts. I have a very thin friend who loves circus peanuts. I think she might be on the right track. She probably ate one in the late ’80s, it swelled up, and she hasn’t been hungry since.
I am by no means a true foodie, but am a bigger fan of real foods these days. Real dairy, whole grains, meats, fruits, vegetables and breads. I still love yogurt. I hide dark chocolate and savor it slowly. I like rich coffee. I don’t think they even make Tang anymore.
I prefer locally owned restaurants to chains. I rarely eat fast food and know that when I do, the term “food” may be negotiable. It should be an exception, not a dietary rule.
Basically, If you are what you eat, then I have officially reached the point where I don’t want to be cheap, fast or easy.
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