I read a book review today of Michael Pollan's book In Defense of Food: An Eater's Manifesto. It reminded me, again, of that uncomfortable place I have to come to live in since having my children. I agree in theory with practically everything Pollan posits in his book, mainly that food should be food, as close to its original origins as possible. It shouldn't be jazzed up with science and technology into "superfoods". It should be cooked well and eaten slowly and in moderation. It should be mainly plant-based. I agree with it all.
But I don't do it anymore.
I have become a gourmet food consumer, one who buys organic and looks for all-natural foods, but I don't cook anymore. I look for someone else to do it for me. I give up my control over the food I eat and my family eats to the suppliers of Harry's Farmer's Market and Kroger and Publix and hope for the best, hope they aren't lying when they say "all-natural", "preservative-free", "organic". My diet is probably more carb-based than veggie-based. I don't stop and think about my food anymore--I just eat it, mindlessly, and more often than not from the plastic bowl I just microwaved it in.
I know where to shop for food. I love the idea of well-prepared food, and I spend money to get it. But I don't do the actual preparing anymore. It's my dirty secret.
I'm resting on my laurels as a cook and baker, I confess. And I'm not sure what to do about it. I can tell you that you can a great quick dinner to go to go from Six Beans in Marietta, or that Entree Vous is great for pre-prepped meals, or that Harry's Farmer's Market is best for fresh , organic fruit salads. But if I'm honest, the bulk of my meals come in boxes and plastic wrapping and foil-wrapped tins. It's removed from it's raw state.
I know I'm missing something by doing this--the satisfaction of a from-scratch dinner, the frugality of cooking from scratch, the quality control over the food...but I don't know what to do to fix it. It isn't just that I don't have as much time to prepare the meals, the big thing is I don't have the time to plan them, so trying to cook from scratch usually ends up being a hectic, last-minute thrown-together mess of canned tomatoes, leftover mystery meat and frozen veggies--or worse. It's so tempting when Entree Vous offers all those nice meals to fill up my freezer with, meals I don't have to think about during the week--just pull out and thaw. But I still walk around with a vague sense of guilt, knowing that my family eats out too much, eats too much processed foods...and may even forget I know how to do more than work a can opener and a microwave.
I console myself with the thought that it will get better, that my kids will not always be 4, 1 and ? (I'm expecting--again!!). I won't always be dealing with the combined cooking blocks of morning sickness, barking dogs, screaming kids and preschoolers who won't eat anything other than chicken nuggets and peanut butter (but I swear, it's organic peanut butter! Organic frozen nuggets! Honest!! Shouldn't that count for something???!)
By buying organic, I pretend nothing has changed. But it has--I'm the slightly healthier, upscale version of a McDonald's addict. My food theories are not practiced. I'm a gourmet hypocrite. Michael Pollan would definitely not be pleased. But then, I wonder if he has kids. And what his response would be if said kids came up to him while he was simultaneously engaged in a) changing a poopy diaper, b) scraping dried Play-doh off the carpet, and 3) talking on the phone to a telemarketer and started chanting, "I'm hungryhungryhungryhungryhungryhungry" at the top of their lungs. Would he pull out the pasta maker, the Gruyere cheese, the semolina flour, the fresh milk? Or would he grab a kid's TV dinner from the freezer and yell "ALL RIGHT! STOP! DINNER'S IN 5-1/2 MINUTES!"
I haven't come to a conclusion about whether what I'm feeling is false guilt or not. I know I'd love to come up with a fool-proof, easy plan that allows me to live out my virtuous, slow-food theories and still maintain my sanity. Is it a fantasy world? Am I not trying hard enough?
Tell me, Mr. Pollan: can we have our fresh spinach and happy kids, too?
