|
By Scott Farrell
I am sitting at my desk reveling in the delicious mixed fruit
bowl which I have chosen from the office lunch room menu. The bowl
contains two slices of bright cantaloupe topped by half a banana
and six juicy strawberries. I can hardly contain my joy at the
explosion of taste which carries me away with each and every bite
to a new universe of sensual delights.
Actually, I hate the fruit bowl. It is small and bland and I dislike
what it represents - the fact that I have reached the age where
I have to "watch what I eat." Five years ago I would have laughed
at the fruit bowl and ordered a double cheeseburger topped with
six slices of bacon, grilled onions and ranch dressing just for
spite, but I - like approximately 32 zillion other Americans who
grew up in the days of Schoolhouse Rock and K.C. & The Sunshine
Band - have reached that age where I am beginning to feel the effects
of too many cheeseburgers and too few fruit bowls. I have come
face-to-face with my own mortality, and it has the face of a hot
fudge sundae.
About 25 years ago the American medical community began a campaign
of nutritional education aimed at a generation which was raised
with the idea that a "well balanced meal" was 2.38 lbs. of roast
beef, a baked potato the size of an overfed cat topped with a quart
of sour cream (the potato, not the cat) and six slices of chives.
Slowly but surely, this effort had an effect on three generations
of cooks in my family.
My grandmother was raised during the 1930s, and she once told
me that when she was young her idea of a hearty lunch was a sandwich
containing (Warning: Do NOT finish this sentence if you have eaten
within the last two hours!) nothing but raw onion slices smeared
with cold, leftover bacon grease. Needless to say, her standards
of "healthy eating" were somewhat liberal - I once convinced her
that the tomato sauce on a pizza should be considered a "vegetable." She
also allowed me, on several occasions, to eat cupcakes for breakfast
because the chocolate frosting was made with milk, so it was almost
like a bowl of cereal.
One generation down the line, my mother at least realized that
every meal should include some form of vegetation. Her dinners
were always accompanied by a salad - although a "salad" by her
definition was a fistful of plain iceberg lettuce topped with about
a quarter of a bottle of blue cheese dressing. (A "fancy salad" was
topped with bacon bits and croutons.)
On occasion, however, my mother would prepare a more serious vegetable
- steamed broccoli, sauteed squash or something like that. I'm
not sure I can really say she was fully aware of the nutritional
value of these items - often they were served with some sort of
cheese sauce or fried bread coating - but at least she was making
an effort. For my part, I would express my appreciation of mom's
healthy addition to our dinner cuisine by attempting to feed these
vegetables to the dog while she was away from the table.
Thanks to a new trend in education, I was introduced to the concept
of the "four food groups" in elementary school. Our teacher told
us about the need for fruits, vegetables and grains in our diets,
and about how we should follow the "food pyramid" for good health.
After these lessons, we were taken into the school cafeteria and
fed "hot dog slices in macaroni and cheese with gravy," or some
other strange food product created by the Army Corps of Engineers
for use in above-ground nuclear tests.
Although I was subjected to some mixed messages during the early
stages of nutritional awareness, the ongoing program of promoting
a good diet as a preventative health care measure has received
serious attention in the years since then. I sometimes see groups
of teen-agers sitting at local juice bars drinking banana and non-fat
yogurt "smoothies" and eating alfalfa sprout and avocado sandwiches
on whole-grain pita bread, and I think to myself, "When I was their
age I would have tried to feed that to the dog!"
A Healthy Tail
Encouraged by a conscious effort toward education in basic nutrition
and a population of teens that make Richard Simmons look like a
junk food peddler, our society is becoming increasing more "health
food friendly." Many restaurants are offering vegetarian dishes
- not just on the back page in the section labeled "food we've
had in the freezer since about 1967," but right up front with the
regular food. Even fast-food restaurants where the menus once consisted
of four words - "burgers, fries, hot dogs" and "soda" - are now
offering vegetable teriyaki bowls, grilled chicken breasts and
frozen yogurt. McDonalds serves three types of salad, for God's
sake, although the 78 oz. side of fries that comes with them may
not be the healthiest choice in the world.
There was a time in my life when I could eat two beef burritos
just 10 minutes before gym class and then go play an entire game
of soccer without puking. Perhaps it's not by coincidence, but
as these healthy alternative foods become more prevalent, I find
that one good-sized slice of pizza for lunch will pretty much put
me into a coma for the rest of the day. It all seems part of an
insidious plot to remind me that I can't eat like a 22-year-old
any more - but that's certainly not because I don't want to. I
try to eat the right things, but I find my intentions don't usually
match with my desires.
For example: I came across a report from the American Dietetic
Association describing some of the worst foods available in restaurants
today. In this report, the ADA describes a desert popular in the
northern mid-west called a "Beaver Tail." The Beaver Tail is a
half-pound slab of fried dough dipped in chocolate frosting and
coated in sugar, cinnamon and hazelnuts. The ADA's analysis of
the Beaver Tail clearly implies that they consider it the nutritional
equivalent of the Exxon Valdez disaster. After reading it, I knew
I should have thought, "Why don't they get the men in the HazMat
suits to take those things away?" but all that came to my mind
was: "Ooo, I wonder if they serve ice cream with that."
Nearly every day the medical community releases new information
on the relationship between food and health. The common theme among
these findings is clear: What we eat has a huge impact on our health,
and it's better to maintain our bodies through a balanced diet
than to try to repair them after a lifetime of cheeseburgers and
hot fudge sundaes.
No matter how much I resent my fruit bowl, I'm grateful to the
doctors and researchers who have given me the necessary data to
choose a healthy diet rather than having to rely on myths and advertising
hype like my parents and grandparents. Armed with the facts, I
can choose the foods which will keep me healthy, and, on those
occasions when I deliberately choose a chili dog over a dish of
steamed broccoli, at least I'll be the one responsible for the
damage done.
For now, I think I'll go finish my fruit bowl while I'm searching
for the recipe for a chocolate coated Beaver Tail. If I eat one
for breakfast, I'll be sure to have it with ice cream - my grandmother
would have wanted it that way.
|
Home
Products
Contact
Us
Support
Press
Room
Story
Time
SchuyLab
SchuyNet
SchuyMed