I just returned from a trip to the library where I picked up a copy of a book entitled, The Omnivore’s Dilemma: A Natural History of Four Meals by a man named Michael Pollan. In his intriguingly titled introduction – “Our National Eating Disorder”, Pollan poses this thought-provoking question:
How did we ever get to a point where we need investigative journalists to tell us where our food comes from and nutritionists to determine the dinner menu?
My own history with food and meals is rather uncomplicated and no doubt mirrors that of my generation. I lived through the shift from days of having at least one (often more) meal at the dinner table with most (if not all) family members present to the days of going solo through a drive-thru, driving around in my Mazda pick-up until I wolfed down the Whopper or Big Mac that would keep my hunger at bay for the next several hours.
I’m happy to say I’ve seen my way back to “simpler times”. Today, my family eats all 3 meals together (with rare exceptions). While we are not obsessive about it, we do use a lot of natural ingredients (lately my daughters have begun to bake all our own bread) and eat relatively healthy portions (though I could stand to let go of my pre-bedtime cereal snack).
I say “I’m happy to say” which may seem strange from someone who suffers with such profound bouts of depression, but it does give me great joy that my family has such good and healthy eating habits. I give my wife (and now my daughters) tremendous credit for keeping us on track when I would have easily let the family slide into the “eating dis-order” that plagues our nation (and many others).
