I’ve been wondering lately: If it’s true that we are what we eat, is the reverse also true? Do we eat what we are?
When I was a child visiting
my grandmother, a thrifty Scottish woman in rural West Virginia, we ate
directly from the garden and the fields.
In the summer, we feasted on corn on the cob rolled in butter, hot mixed
peppers simmered with fresh tomatoes, juicy blackberry and rhubarb pies, salad
greens wilted with hot bacon dressing. In winter, we ate fruit and vegetables
that had been “put up” in the cellar.
At the same time, I was a hometown girl
of Clarksburg, West Virginia, a surprisingly diverse town with thriving
Lebanese and Italian populations. Our
neighbors, the Thomas family, supplied us with wide, flat sheets of Syrian
bread. Mom scrambled eggs with stinky wild ramps and then we rolled the concoction into
the flatbread, burrito style.
When I went off to college
in South Carolina, I was a scrawny teenager desperate to add curves to my
boyish figure. Grits with gravy, hot rolls with butter (consumed by the
half dozen) and deep-fried everything guaranteed that I immediately gained the
“freshman fifteen.” When I wasn’t refilling my plate in the cafeteria, I could
be found at Sir George’s, an all-you-can-eat buffet that we affectionately
called “Sir Gorges.”
After college, I moved to
California and became a busy fifth-grade teacher and a grad
student struggling to make ends meet. I lived on Bisquick biscuits that I made two at a time and generic cans of soup.
Not long after that, in the
80s, I morphed into a full-fledged yuppie, working in downtown LA as a marketing manager at
what was known then as “the phone company.” For the
first time in my life, I had disposable income and non-disposable time. I dined
at restaurants specializing in “California cuisine” (think miniscule
portions at maximum prices). When I wasn’t dining out, I was dropping in to
Bristol Farms, a Whole Foods precursor, to purchase pricy, premade items.
When I quit my job in the
early 90s to become a full-time mom, my cooking and eating habits once again
changed. I learned the beauty of the stir fry and how to wok this way. While my
toddler was occupied for minutes at a time, I chopped an
onion here or diced a pepper there or thin sliced a chicken breast. When Dad
got home for dinner, I threw everything into a sizzling wok.
But when the toddler grew
into a picky preschooler and I became a harried housewife juggling writing,
home duties and volunteer work, the stir fries disappeared. I’ll never forget the moment when I looked
down at the grocery cart loaded with convenient blue boxes and processed orange
slices that passed for cheese. I groaned
to myself, “I’ve become white trash!”
Fast forward a few years,
and I became a cancer patient at the City of Hope. I took to heart the words of
a wise dietician: “Eat nutrient-dense foods.” From that moment on, I started
examining the nutritional punch of everything that went into my mouth. Instead
of faux wheat bread, I chose dense, multi-grain loaves. And brown rice took the
place of the nutritionally vacuous white stuff I'd been consuming. I couldn’t get enough fresh
fruits and vegetables.
Shortly after my stint as a
patient, both in and out of the hospital, I joined a community called RIPE, an
Altadena-based group that swaps and shares home-grown organic fruits and
vegetables. The sharing soon went well beyond surplus citrus and zucchini. I
saved my leftover citrus rinds as treats for a nearby family of goats. The
goats’ owners shared with neighbors the nutrient-packed soiled hay, which we
used as mulch for our vegetable gardens that produced food that we shared with
one another. It was a perfect circle of sharing and caring. Who I was and what I ate became closely
intertwined.
And now I’ve entered yet
another chapter, a stress-free life in Scottsdale, AZ, filled with hiking, writing,
volunteering and cooking. I haven’t yet figured out how to grow vegetables in
our hot, arid climate, and produce sharing would be difficult (if not
impossible) among the endless chain of gated communities.
But I’m slowly making
friends who love to share their knowledge, experience and kitchen bounty. One
friend spent an afternoon with me making orange marmalade from the citrus that I'd carted in from the
Altadena backyard. Another new friend brought over a jar of homemade limoncello
that’s far superior to the batch that I made last year.
And I’m taking pleasure in
feeding the new “picky eater” in my life, a boyfriend who doesn’t like pasta
from any country, shellfish from any sea, fish (other than salmon) and a long
list of vegetables.
Hope you’ll join me in this
new phase of my life as I explore who I am and what's on my plate.
11 comments:
I can't wait to follow the new chapter of your life. Your stories always captivate me, make me smile and see things through new windows.
And, Barbara, we've been through a few adventure together in our day!
Good to see you up and blogging again. What an interesting way to look back at one's life. I'm to frightened to do such an inventory. Might reveal a significant lack of growth in that department.
I did go out and purchase a Pomegranate tree and a few grape vines. Plan are to train them against a chain link fence. Might be dead by the time they start producing.
I'm so happy to see you writing again, Susan!
This post is great, and I can identify with your past food preferences - I do believe that what you eat is heavily influenced by where, and what, you are at the time.
I'm eagerly awaiting to see where this new path takes you, your plate and your pen.....
I was so excited to see you in my list of reads today! Welcome back Susan!! I look forward to following your new journey in life.
I think we eat the way our life dictates. I am trying to plan my meals out a week in advance so that I make sure they are good for us and not processed, out of a box and had a shelf life of years on end. Once it's safe to plant veggies here in PA, I will be expanding the variety. My daughter has even shown an interest in helping this year!
PA, good luck with your pomegranate tree. I tried growing one in Altadena, but it quickly kicked the bucket. I've had good luck with grape vines as cover for chain link.
Lori, thanks so much for the encouragement!
Mary, I've been doing the same kind of meal planning during in this new phase of my life. A Pasadena friend who visited here made fun of the way I had to stop everything to get buy steak on sale and then cut it up into various shapes and sizes for chilli, stew, fajitas or stir fry. How fun that your daughter is getting into the gardening act with you.
Thank you all for reading, commenting and your encouragement!
So glad to see your writing after a long wait. I will definitely follow your journey. I live with two picky eaters. If you find a way to please yours, let me know.
It is good to have you back. I can't wait to hear about this new chapter in your life. Patiently waiting. Blessings...Mary
You're back! I worried about what happened to you, but you said you were OK, so I just figured you didn't want to blog anymore.
it's time to put in another yearly post (just a reminder)
Hi Susan! Just saw this wonderful post. I was checking to see if the blog I set up awhile back still exists and saw your link on my blogroll. Glad to hear that life is good!
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