Eating Disorder

Once in a while, like every few hours, my wife and I enter into a discussion about what to eat and what not to eat. It is my contention that if God had not intended for us to eat something, He wouldn’t have made it. As far as I am concerned, if it’s considered food by at least 50% of the population then it should be eaten. I do have standards however. I don’t eat anything with more than four legs and I don’t eat anything that frogs sit on. I also won’t eat anything with “brussel” in the name, but that’s about all the rules I have about eating.

Nancy loves to cook and I love to eat, so it’s a match made in heaven. She produces the food and I consume it. I call this production/consumption cycle “culinary capitalism”, and I firmly believe that it goes a long way toward making America great. Why do you think the Pilgrims started Thanksgiving? It was to institute an American tradition of culinary capitalism and gluttony, of course. Well, to kick off the Christmas season too, but I digress.

Our most recent discussion regarded the recent health fad of “juicing”. First of all, to be perfectly clear, juice is meant to be a drink, not a meal. Meals should contain meat and potatoes. Don’t get me wrong. I have nothing against juice. I drank gallons of Hi-C grape drink while I was in college and I’m reasonably sure there must have been some juice in it. We also stopped for orange juice at the Florida Welcome Center both times we went to Disney World. Don’t tell me I don’t like juice. We bought an expensive juicer that turns almost anything into juice. I didn’t even know that spinach HAD juice. I have a sledgehammer in the garage that would have done the job much cheaper, but as anyone who has watched Gallagher knows, that can get a bit messy.

“Look what happened to Jack LaLanne, “ I pointed out. “He was a vegetarian and a juicer, not to mention an exercise guru, and look what happened to him! He died!”
“ He was 96!” My wife countered.
“ Really? Oh….. well, he probably would have made it to 100 if he had rested more and had more meat in his diet.” I thought that was a great comeback. She doesn’t know who she is messing with. (Actually, that should be “ she does not know with whom she is messing”.) When Winston Churchill was corrected for ending a sentence with a preposition, he retorted “ that is a ridiculous rule up with which I shall not put.” Well said, Winston.
“ I have an idea, why don’t you just go to a pizza buffet and eat until your upper lip starts to sweat,” Nancy said, her words dripping with sarcasm and just a hint of disgust.
“ That’s a great idea,” I said. “ I figure if I eat just the right amount of pizza over my lifespan, I will die before I have to go to a nursing home. Goodness knows I don’t want to wind up in a nursing home. Want to go with me?”
She must not have heard me because she just turned and walked away. I think her hearing is getting worse.

Nancy eats and drinks a lot of really healthy and unidentifiable things. She eats a grey thing called tofu that I tried once. It tasted like water, but not as thirst quenching. She also eats something called hummus. It looks very much like tofu, but with a bit more of a brown tinge and not as rubbery. I have not yet tasted hummus and have no immediate plans to do so. I haven’t seen a hummus grazing in a pasture, or a hummus plant growing in a field. Seriously. What IS this stuff? I have to be very careful what I put in my body. Who knows where this hummus had been?

We eat eggs high in omega 3 that come from chickens that are not kept in cages. Nancy says that chickens that are free ranging are happier than caged chickens and produce healthier eggs. I’m still working on this one. I am afraid to buy eggs anymore. It’s just too much pressure to remember that they must be rich in omega 3, from cage free chickens, AND not be broken! I suppose I should also eat only hamburgers made from cows that died from natural causes? I’m certain that their slaughterhouse experience must have been quite emotionally traumatic.

I appreciate that Nancy is trying to keep me healthy. But I do sometimes wonder if it’s because there is a bunch of paperwork going on around here involving numbers and she doesn’t want to be left with it.

Several months ago, my wife brought home something called “Ezekiel Bread”. It was more like drywall, but didn’t taste as good. I was brought up to believe that bread should be soft, and when it was no longer soft, the birds got it. When I was a kid, we used Hart’s bread. When you chewed up a mouthful of Hart’s bread it would turn into a big ball of goo in your mouth. Now who wouldn’t like a soft warm ball of goo? A similar mouthful of Ezekiel bread felt more like chewing sandpaper. I threw it out and even the birds wouldn’t eat it. I think they were insulted. I should have been more sensitive.

I happen to love cold cereal in milk. First, I was goaded into skim milk, but it was so weak I doubted that it actually existed. I rebelled and eventually settled on 2% milk. This is supposed to keep me alive longer and therefore save Nancy from tons of number-intensive paperwork. I thought I had adjusted to the thin tasteless milk pretty well, until I was informed that “organic” 2% milk was even better for me. Who would have thought? And what makes milk organic in the first place? Do the cows eat only organic grass? And what makes the grass organic? I don’t think I want to go there. In fact, I’m a little concerned about this organic milk. It has a much longer expiration date, but doesn’t seem to have all the good preservatives and hormones that real milk has. I am hesitant to bring it up to Nancy though. I know she is trying. One day recently, Nancy informed me that cold cereal has absolutely no nutritional value.
I said, “So? What’s your point?” She walked away without answering. I really am concerned about her hearing.