Then I saw this one: "Yogurt: Health Food or Dessert?" and I had to flip forward a chapter or two for that one. I don't think I eat a lot of dairy, but I do have one yogurt almost every morning during the week. Whew, again, as long as it's a low-fat, non-sweetened yogurt, I'm just getting the dairy plus some potential but unconfirmed benefits from the bacterial cultures. (Minuses: my yogurt comes from Greece, and it is not organic. ) But people, if you are feeding your kids Go-Gurt or Danimals because they will eat it and it's good for them, it looks like you might as well hand them a pint of Ben and Jerry's and a spoon with their Cheerios, because it's chock full of fat and sugar. Most yogurt is dairy dressed up, and like a Russian hooker, the more tarted up it is, the worse it is for your health. (Hey! I LOVE blogging after a glass of wine on a Sunday evening. I think it makes me more CReaTIVE.)
I like Marion's straightforward and pragmatic approach. Food should be pleasurable, not a headache. It should be good for you. When in doubt, consider the source, do your best, and don't worry too much about it. Eat less, move more, favor fruits and vegetables. It's really simpler than you think.
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Reading the produce section reminds me of the produce calendar my mom taught me when I whined for grapes for my (January) birthday. Growing up in Modesto I was blessed to have a plethora of locally grown produce available at a sort of scuzzy but really good fruit stand right there on Coffee Road, just a little up the street from the current Taco Bell. At the time it was Taco Charlie's. "Boy, do I want a taco, Charlie." (I may be the only one who remembers those silly tv commercials with a little boy (not in a car seat) leaning forward from the back seat to let his parents know that "boy, do I want a taco, Charlie." I doubt that the produce was organic, but it was mostly local if only because fruits & veggies were grown in the Central Valley. And no self-respecting Californian would eat Florida oranges.
Anyway, Artichokes were ripe about the time that Aunt Jane & Uncle Brian would come to visit in the spring; plums, peaches, and nectarines would be ripe when school got out, maybe even a little before. And my beloved grapes wouldn't be ripe until Bob's birthday in late summer. But I did get lemons and lemon meringue pie for my birthday.
There was something magical about knowing that summer time brought strawberries. And you could think about strawberry pie in February, but would have to be content with apple or, if visiting Grandma Waldron who always froze berries, blackberry pie.
I've tried to eat more seasonally because the produce always tastes better when in season. Maybe I'm too old to adapt to these new fangled ways, but blueberries in winter is just wrong.
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