My grocery list has been blank for the better part of today. The cursor and I blink at each other, neither of us sure where to start. It’s not like me to be paralyzed at the thought of food; after all, I’ve built up a pretty good repertoire by now of seasonal menus that manage to be both healthy and delicious, inexpensive and simple. But this morning, I read about yet another lifestyle diet, and my easily susceptible guilt center went into lockdown.
Over the last year or so, I’ve heard a lot of buzz about eating local. The arguments in favor of organic produce, free-range eggs, and grass-fed beef are still going strong as well. Then there’s the vegetarian voice, which I hear in the back of my own mind from time to time, vying to be heard over the supporters for veganism. The case to go gluten-free chimes in from multiple angles, and fans of a raw diet cheer from the sidelines. Each new way of eating promises energy, balance, and happiness while passively decrying anyone unwilling to follow it, and I’m left feeling thoroughly muddled. If we only ate local, organic, vegan, gluten-free, raw food, our meals would consist entirely of olive oil.
I have no doubt that our eating habits could be healthier, but I don’t have hours a day to devote to food preparation. We don’t have the funds to swap our usual produce haul with its organic equivalent, and it’s not like we have a Whole Foods around here anyway. If we gave up meat or dairy, we would offend every single Italian cook who invited us to dinner, and beyond that, sausage is near and dear to my little family’s heart. And dessert… Let’s just say that at my table, you will never bite into a key lime pie and discover pureed avocado.
I’ve been pretty far down the road of dietary deprivation before, and I know that it is not the right journey for me or my family, especially considering the food-adoring culture we’ve joined. I truly believe that the effort I put each week into designing a custom menu is valuable. Mealtimes at our house are happy occasions, and we each get up from the table feeling nourished (with the possible exception of the resident two-year-old who suspects vegetables to be poison). We neither have to wrestle with our beliefs nor risk indigestion when we accept dinner invitations, and I am so grateful my girls can grow up in a home where food is a peaceful subject (unless broccoli ends up on the two-year-old’s plate, of course).
I just wish I didn’t let myself feel so confused and judged by people whose right way of eating is different than mine. Don’t get me wrong—olive oil has its merits. But so do the foods we love drizzling it on. Perhaps that’s precisely where this week’s grocery list should start…
i like this post 🙂
I like this post, too. Especially the last line of the second paragraph which positively made me chortle.
It is easy to get swept away isn’t it? I am not a great meal planner, and I know for sure we could eat MUCH better, but I am with you on the “to each their own” philosophy!
My husband says your (abundance of) olive oil is a beautiful thing. It’s left me feeling my pantry is rather inadequate by comparison…
I agree. I think almost all of us could eat healthier; probably everybody could have a basil plant in the kitchen to contribute to a “produce more yourself” food economy, but I’m tired of getting beaten over the head by holier-than-thou food activists. (Yeah, Barbara Kingsolver, I’m looking at you.) I’ve got my herb pots, I’ve got my veggie garden going, but I also buy untold numbers of melons – um, yeah, not so local in Switzerland – because they’re healthy and the boys – including my resident picky 2 year old – love them. I agree that more of us probably need to change the way we acquire our food by choice, or we’ll all have to do it out of necessity, but I wish that just once somewhere along the line somebody would concede that though we may gain something by eating seasonal-local all the time, let’s not pretend we won’t lose something as well. Just once admit that mangos taste good, that mango juice dripping down your chin is fantastic, and admit that when we give up mangos to lower our carbon footprints, we lose something. If only pleasure. As if that were an “if only.”
Whoa. Sorry for spilling my soap box all over your comments thread. Can you tell I think about this too?
It’s been awhile since I’ve visited here and I am so glad I did. You always have a dash of thoughtful, a cup of insightful and a sprinkle of humorous. If your meal planning is anything like these posts, molto bene! And I also like what Jennifer had to say.