Raised on White Bread

  

  We love food. We have issues with food. Food sustains us and some of it's killing us. I was raised on white bread, butter and preservatives in a home where canned was best and salt was king. Sure, we used different spices. Seasoned salt, garlic salt, and onion salt were rotated and sometimes they even made it into the same dish at the same time. No wonder my dad loved to eat out.
     We'd stand in line at the Piccadilly Cafeteria and pick out food that looked like it may have been under the warmer for a bit too long. Seafood gumbo with a thin layer of grease on top and served over steaming white rice, fat yeasty rolls swathed with melted butter and a Salisbury steak floating in an oily broth. Sometimes we'd make the long drive across town to eat at the much fancier Luby's Cafeteria. They had Trout Almondine and Chow Mein...fare that we deemed better but was certainly no healthier.
     A couple of years ago I revisited the South with my daughter. This time it was Shreveport, Louisiana and as we drove aimlessly through town I spied a Piccadilly. No way was I going to drive right by. I had to go in. The gumbo tasted just the same and that roll triggered some strong food memories. My daughter has a healthy attitude towards food. She loves every vegetable under the sun and an occasional baked potato. She hates fried chicken but will admit to a borderline addiction to Pillsbury Cinnamon Rolls. I like to think her mostly healthy choices are because I realized, by the time my kids were born, that food can be a problem of the worst kind. I tried to fill the pantry and fridge with healthy choices and I never put limits on food or made them eat everything on their plate. She thought the Piccadilly was okay. I guess I'd be worried if she loved it.
     Over the past couple of years I've made a huge effort to eat healthy. I really kicked it into high gear about 6 months ago. Nothing like a health scare to make you feel like the grim reaper is ding dong ditching you. A move to the West Coast a few years ago also helped quite a bit. Fresh food is fresher and every little town and suburb has a great Farmer's Market. The weather is mild for most of the summer and balmy in winter so there's really no excuse to not get out and burn some calories. I've heard plenty of "land of fruit and nuts" jokes but I can roll with it.
     With that said, I can readily admit that the Taco Bell Crunch Burrito with spicy Fritos has occupied a very unhealthy amount of space in my brain lately. I'm a little obsessed with it. The commercial is enough to trigger really happy food memories from the old days when I had a faster metabolism and the imagined invincibility of youth. When that craving kicks in I quickly kick it out and replace it with some pretty potent visuals of hardened arteries, a stronger blood pressure med, and the tsk, tsk, tsking of my doctor. Old habits die a slow death and food issues are all about control issues. Those are two facts you can etch in stone.
     When we're raised on unhealthy food (or with an unhealthy attitude toward it) and then the angst of adolescence and the uncertainty of young adulthood makes us feel like we're careening out of control it's no wonder that so many of us see food as the one thing we can control. We say how much we eat, how little we eat and what we eat and no one can take that away. I remember starving myself in my twenties. I was in a miserable first marriage and starving my feelings but food was the outward sign. In my thirties I was overwhelmed with two small children and not enough money but bad carbs were cheap and food was something that was in my control. Ever aware that food was an issue for me I realized even then, when I loved a Brahms chocolate malt  and a Sonic chili cheeseburger more than anything in the world, that I never wanted my children to share my issues with food.
     I really do love healthy food. That was a long time coming. I'm making it a lifestyle and not a diet. And what they say about it taking three weeks to start a new habit? I think it takes a lot longer than that when trying to adopt a healthy eating habit. Food memories are strong and so much of who we are is wrapped up in what we eat, who we ate it with and where we were. I remember a delicious Italian meal when my husband and I first started dating. And I remember anniversaries eating prime rib, mashed potatoes and creamed spinach. It wasn't until I started making new food memories that I was able to push the old ones out. My food memory for today? Planning tonight's dinner while still lounging in bed with our coffees this morning and then walking up to the farmer's market and picking out fresh vegetables and herbs. New memories. Keep 'em coming.