Dooce (see sidebar) has a hilarious entry today about the comments she received after posting about Free Range Chicken Broth. She had been laughing about the fact that her conservative mother was on the side of the organic food people, formerly known as "hippies."
I realize that care for the environment and our diet has become mainstream (more or less), but, back in the day...back in Dooce's mother's day...such was not the case.
We had no "vegans." We had a few people who ate a "macrobiotic diet." I never did get the hang of it, but it involved a lot of brown rice and soy beans. Fresh fruit and vegetables had to be consumed as soon as they were cut. I remember making guacamole for a Chicago friend who suffered from such a diet. It made him hyper and caused him to hover at my elbow as I mixed the chopped tomato and onion into the mashed avocado, muttering something about how vegetables lose their Vitamin C within eight minutes of being exposed to air, so could I please hurry? And the Houston friend who would only eat certain things in a certain order at certain times of the day. At 10:00 AM, she would have half a banana, and at 11:30, an avocado. Asked if she would like a little salsa, cottage cheese, or lemon juice on that, she would always decline. She carried her bag of food everywhere, and would eat by the clock wherever she happened to be. And my friend Melissa, who would not eat an egg unless she was personally acquainted with the chicken, unto the third or fourth generation of its ancestors, and the diet of all.
One of the things all of these people shared is a complete lack of humour. They took their food so very seriously. I wish I could have kept in touch with all of them, to see if they are healthier than I am after all these years. I have always believed that laughter is one of the things that makes life worth living.
Sort of like a good rare steak, smothered in mushrooms that have been sauteed in butter, and served with a baked potato which has a liberal dollop of sour cream on it and a sprinkle of crispy bacon bits.
And none of your tofu bacon here, thanks.
It is rumoured that Sarah Miles drinks her own pee. Now, that is a kook, if you ask me.
ReplyDeleteYour friends sound rather interesting.
I'm drooling from your description of that rare steak and baked potato.
We have the steak really rare then drizzle it with a dressing of fresh green chilli, garlic, ginger, soy sauce, olive oil and lots of fresh lime juice, cold, not hot. It is to die for (measure to taste).
HP Sauce!
ReplyDeleteThank you so much for that visual of Sarah Miles so early in the morning. That sounds more like a perversion than a dietary choice!
ReplyDeleteSorry! Just trying to say "to each his own" in my own sort of perverted way.
ReplyDeleteI apologise for my timing as well as my poor judgement.
Do you have photos of "A Christmas Carol"?
ReplyDeleteHP Sauce? Don't puke but I used to add HP to baked beans. I got that from my Dad. It is delicious. LOL
ReplyDeleteWe will have pictures. There should be CDs of photographs available after the show is done. I am looking forward to that.
ReplyDelete