A woman's grandmother had no kitchen scale, no dietary rulebooks, and no interest in superfoods. She had a garden, a cast-iron skillet, and she lived to ninety-four.
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News for the America we remember |
My grandmother had a heavy cast-iron skillet that lived on the back-left burner of her stove. It was seasoned by forty years of fried chicken, blackened catfish, and Sunday morning bacon. She didn't have a kitchen scale. She didn't have a book telling her which oils were inflammatory. She just had a garden in the backyard and a local butcher who knew her by her first name. She lived to be ninety-four, sharp as a tack until the very end. |
Lately, I catch myself looking at the grocery store shelves and feeling a little lost. There are rows of boxes filled with powders that promise to make you live forever. There are meatless burgers made in a laboratory and milk that comes from an almond instead of a cow. We are told one week that eggs are bad for our hearts, and the next week we are told they are a miracle food. |
But if you look back at the way we used to eat, before every meal became a political statement or a scientific experiment, there was a simple logic to it. In the fifties and sixties, we didn't talk about superfoods. We just called them vegetables. We didn't talk about probiotics. We just ate the pickles Mom put up in glass jars in the cellar. We ate what was in season because that was what the store had. |
There was a rhythm to the week that kept us balanced. Sunday was the big roast with carrots and potatoes. Monday was the leftovers. Friday was often fish. If you wanted a snack, you grabbed an apple from the bowl on the counter. If you were thirsty, you drank water from the tap or a glass of cold milk. |
The secret wasn't some hidden trick. It was just that the food was real. My father used to say that if you couldn't recognize what an animal or a plant looked like before it hit your plate, you probably shouldn't be eating it. He grew green beans that actually snapped when you broke them. They came from the dirt behind the garage. Today, we try to get those same nutrients from a plastic bottle of vitamins we bought at the pharmacy. |
We have been sold the idea that health is something fancy and expensive. We are told we need exotic berries from the rainforest or powders made of crushed leaves. My grandmother never heard of any of |
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