…eccentric eaters

Underneath the flabby hide of Americans, flows the blue blood bred for excitement. If you need more proof, look at our diets. We relish dangerous food and consume it in huge quantities. The fake stuff[1] in our soft drinks craters our pancreas, and prepares our arteries for the onslaught of dangerous synthetic fat.[2]

I’m starting to think the kids show up to dinner solely for the danger… and the entertainment. I soaked white beans on Monday,, cooking them with ham in the crock pot all night on low.

Tuesday, it was good soup, but I hadn’t invited the army to dinner. So on Wednesday I dragged them back out and added tomatoes, taco seasoning, and a can of green chilis. I served them with cheese and chips. Voila! Tortilla soup!. Delicious!

The next night, I fixed chicken burritos with Mexican rice and refried beans smothered with… you guessed it, thickened, blended soup. How exciting, YUM!

Back to risk: We live to eat with the constant threat of disease, the hysteria over lysteria and nitrates in bologna, steroids and hormones in red meat, crazy cow disease, e-coli, and even allergic reactions from antibiotics in ground beef.[3]

We are willing to gobble fast food with genetically altered, hydroponic and irradiated vegetables, but then we cringe when we hear that our ancestors feasted on blood pudding?

The world should never disparage American’s courage based on our wimpy attitude about smoking. We are edgy, risk-taking eaters who setting ourselves up for a miserable, horrible death! But, we don’t let that consume us too much, because we’re looking forward to the new and disturbing diseases we get as we age. These will feed our urge for the adrenalin rush of greater life challenges!

On Friday, I dumped all the leftovers together, soup and rice, beans, chicken and then poured corn bread batter over the top. Then I baked it and called it Tamale Pie. Once again, delicious!
Then, the husband came in singing, “It is the soup that never ends. It just goes on and on my friend. Some people started cooking it not knowing what it was, and we’ll continue eating it forever just because…”
[4] Very punny, love me.

That’s why I cook the way I do. It has a dual purpose, aside from building strong bones and teeth,[5] my family learns that they can face any challenge, anywhere in the world… if only they can conquer the gastric horrors Mom dreams up.

It takes imagination to identify what’s for dinner and then a complicated mathmatical formula challenges them to connect it to what we had last night. It’s like our own personal game show. Guess the goulash and identify its genetic history. Hey, whatever brings them home to dinner, I say!

It is for these reasons that I strive to provide home cooking every night, and that’s rare in this day and age. I’m running a success ratio of five to one, but I allow for occasional resistance as the turncoats are spotted under the golden arches wolfing up everything in sight.

I have a fervent wish of the perfect family at home, around the dinner table eating healthier, and a bungie-jumping, Velcro-covered, climbing wall in the kitchen. I’m willing.

[1] High fructose corn syrup, twice as sweet, three times as cheap.
[2] Trans-fat in 40,000 of our processed foods.
[3] My true story.
[4] My apologies to Julie Lewis
[5] Extra raw or overcooked…either way it’s tough.

1 comment:

QUEEN TEAM D said...

hmmmm, this is familiar... do you think you died accidentally and were reincarnated as ME?!
We are THE SAME. creepy.

Reality Bite: Would the reincarnation be an improvement, or a punishment?