Monday, March 4, 2013

Warning! Potentially Persnickety Eater!


This seems a bit silly to be writing about now, as I look back on it…but this is what happened.

I was headed to eat with my parents after a friend’s daughter’s senior art exhibit – which was amazing, by the way! And the show evoked a bit of an emotional response that surprised me, a mix of pride and amazement at this 18 year-old’s talent.

We headed to a nearby shopping center with several restaurant choices. I suggested that we choose a well-known local icon cafeteria, thinking that would a great way to get some real food. Y’know, veggie, fruit, protein.


Once we walked in I began questioning my choice. There was something about the atmosphere that yelled stereotypical cafeteria. I guess I was expecting something different. But I decided I would power through. I eat at chain restaurants. I can do this, I thought. I began to think about what I might want to eat here.

We got closer to the line. A big medallion plate hung on the back wall announcing the Plate Special. The top half of the plate read “EntrĂ©e and roll”. My brain saw “huge portion of sauce-covered meat”. The lower left quarter read “one vegetable”. The lower right quarter read the same. After teaching a six-week class in nutrition and healthy cooking that includes a similar plate, only emphasizing fresh fruits and vegetables, lean proteins, and smart consumption of grains, I sensed a slight queasy feeling in my stomach.

As I walked to where the line started, I surveyed the food choices. Suddenly, I knew I couldn’t eat there. I was looking at food I wasn’t going to enjoy. Vegetables that were over-cooked and poorly seasoned, soaked in their juices. Macaroni and cheese made with Velveeta. And meats from who-knows-where. I told my parents that I couldn’t eat there. And we left.

This cafeteria was indicative of some of the many things that are wrong with our current food system and eating in this country. Yes, there were vegetables, but they weren’t prepared with care for methods that would keep the most nutrients in the food. If the spinach had been fresh when it arrived at the restaurant, it was indistinguishable from the canned kind once placed on the serving line. The meat choices were either heavily breaded with who knows what or covered in a sauce of unknown origin to keep it from drying out as it sat waiting to be selected by diners.

This wasn’t locally-produced, simply-prepared real food. It was a nod in the direction of real food and of good nutrition. But it was neither. And my sensibilities couldn’t handle it that day.

Ironically, my other suggestion was a locally owned Tex-Mex place across the parking lot. At least there, I knew exactly what I was going to be eating. And I was able to get fresh spinach in my enchiladas!

The straddle between a food system providing fresh, local, sustainably raised foods and the status quo, industrial food system evokes some interesting responses… And makes one a potentially very persnickety eater. 

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