The Menu Thus Far ...
... and the thoughts behind it.
Breakfast
Breakfast was on the run this morning, as it usually is most mornings when I work the AM shift. If left to my own devices, I'd probably eat a Continental breakfast a couple of hours after getting up in the morning. I can't do that when I'm working. And since I was never a morning person, I can't seem to get up early enough to have a proper breakfast before work.
So, on the way into work, I had a cherry turnover from the Publix bakery and about half of a Coke. I made a spectacular mess in the car as the cherry turnover pastry crumbled with every bite I took. The drive was long enough that I could think about the ingredients of both the pastry and cola. Flour, (probably) vegetable shortening, eggs, milk, sugar and pitted cherries made up the turnover. Farmers were needed to grow the crops, raise the chickens, and milk the cows. Migrant workers probably picked the cherries, cut the sugar cane, and harvest the vegetables that made the shortening. People processed the raw materials, refining and pasturizing the ingredients. People transported pallets of the ingredients to the bakery. The bakers made the turnovers for the grocery store. The pastry was packaged, displayed and sold to me.
The Coke arrived in roughly the same way, except by way of Mexico. M and I bought a case of glass bottled Coke at Costco a while back. These are the larger 12oz glass bottles. They were made in Mexico with real cane sugar. On our trip to the British Isles, we found out that most European countries make their sodas with vegetable sugars. The US makes soda with corn syrup. There is a huge difference between a Coke made with vegetable sugar, one made with corn syrup and one made with cane sugar. My morning caffeine was a product of the NAFTA trading agreement.
When I got into work, I ended up making a pot of coffee for the Front Desk crew, and poured myself a cup. It was Folger's. I put in a small amount of granulated sugar and some non-dairy creamer. The coffee beans probably came from Central or South America. The granulated sugar probably came from the Belle Glade area of Florida. I have no idea about the non-dairy creamer. And if I give it too much thought right now, I'd probably be a little unnerved about it. If it's non-dairy ... then what is it made of and why am I putting it in my coffee?
[And the usual answer would be: because it was Folger's coffee and not Seattle's Best, Kona, or Godiva.]
Lunch
I made lunch right before I headed out to work. My Postal lunchbox (one of the personal Igloo coolers) has made a reappearance in my life, especially since I worked one too many full days where I only had 30 minutes to run out for a sandwich and get back to work.
Since it is Ash Wednesday, I wanted to keep with the whole "no red meat" thing on certain days of Lent. I packed a microwaveable Kraft Macaroni & Cheese, a peanut butter sandwich, a Capri Sun Pacific Cooler, and a small Strawberry Kiwi Gatorade.
Years ago, when I was a child, you could have 1 cool thing in your lunchbox or 1 warm thing, especially if your Thermos bottle was a wide-mouth. The milk would be cool, but not cold. Soup would be warm, but not hot. There were no freezer packs. There were no microwaves. There were no Ziplock lunch bags. I remember a world before the Spork. I remember being happy when technology developed to a point that Thermos bottles were made entirely of plastic, thus saving my poor ears from my mother's ranting when I came home and told her I broke another glass-lined Thermos.
My entire lunch today was made for a faster world than the one that existed when I was a child.
I microwaved my Mac & Cheese. I drank my cold Capri Sun. I ate my cool, but not cold peanut butter sandwich. I saved my Gatorade for the trip home, because I'm usually thirsty after running around doing the closing tasks. While I ate my sandwich and waited for my Mac & Cheese to cool down a bit, I played Texas Hold 'Em on my Blackberry to mentally distance myself from work for 30 minutes.
It wasn't a bland meal, but it wasn't anything to write home about, either. How many people are sacrificing taste and proper nutrition in their meals for time-saving convenience? And if they're saving all that time, why is everyone always rushing around?
Dinner
M and I decided to go back to planning our dinners, partly because of my Lenten choice. We've also been slagging off making proper meals these last few weeks. It's either Catch-As-Catch-Can or we run out to get something to eat, then come back home. It's one thing to eat while you're out running errands or if you plan on going out on a specific night.
Tonight's dinner was shrimp scampi (frozen shrimp) over angel hair pasta, French onion soup (Campbell's from a can) with a French baguette crouton and covered with a Provolone cheese, Rosemary and Sea Salt bread with Irish garlic and herb butter, and beverages. M had a Coke. I had a hard cider.
While I was making dinner, I thought once again about how the food was grown or harvested, how it was processed, and how we chose the menu. I started looking on the packages as to where they came from. The shrimp came a processing plant on the East coast of Georgia (probably from a trawler working the Atlantic in that area, too). The cider came from California. The pasta company is in Illinois.
Over dinner, M and I discussed how the food came to our table from the fields and the ocean. Neither one of us has any illusions about where our food comes from. We both spent part of our childhood in rural areas. My maternal grandmother grew up on a farm. My mother and her sisters had a truck farm to earn money when they were younger. One of my first memories was of sitting on the back porch at my maternal grandmother's house while she and Mom went out to the nearby strawberry field to pick berries. Mom could see us from the small field. Every so often, she would come over and give my sisters and I strawberries that she had just picked.
When I was older, we had a veggie patch out in the back yard. We had radishes, green beans, beets, cucumbers, and tomatoes. Grandma lived in an apartment, so she would share her veggie patch with one of my maternal aunts. (My aunt and uncle would supply the patch of land and do all the heavy work. Grandma did the planting, tended the crops, and generally supervised.) We would eat fresh vegetables for most of the summer, then everyone would can the rest of the harvest, so we could eat it during the Winter months. When the tomato harvest was exceptionally plentiful, Grandma made homemade ketchup and Mom would make up batches of homemade tomato sauce for use in lasagna and spaghetti.
Breakfast
Breakfast was on the run this morning, as it usually is most mornings when I work the AM shift. If left to my own devices, I'd probably eat a Continental breakfast a couple of hours after getting up in the morning. I can't do that when I'm working. And since I was never a morning person, I can't seem to get up early enough to have a proper breakfast before work.
So, on the way into work, I had a cherry turnover from the Publix bakery and about half of a Coke. I made a spectacular mess in the car as the cherry turnover pastry crumbled with every bite I took. The drive was long enough that I could think about the ingredients of both the pastry and cola. Flour, (probably) vegetable shortening, eggs, milk, sugar and pitted cherries made up the turnover. Farmers were needed to grow the crops, raise the chickens, and milk the cows. Migrant workers probably picked the cherries, cut the sugar cane, and harvest the vegetables that made the shortening. People processed the raw materials, refining and pasturizing the ingredients. People transported pallets of the ingredients to the bakery. The bakers made the turnovers for the grocery store. The pastry was packaged, displayed and sold to me.
The Coke arrived in roughly the same way, except by way of Mexico. M and I bought a case of glass bottled Coke at Costco a while back. These are the larger 12oz glass bottles. They were made in Mexico with real cane sugar. On our trip to the British Isles, we found out that most European countries make their sodas with vegetable sugars. The US makes soda with corn syrup. There is a huge difference between a Coke made with vegetable sugar, one made with corn syrup and one made with cane sugar. My morning caffeine was a product of the NAFTA trading agreement.
When I got into work, I ended up making a pot of coffee for the Front Desk crew, and poured myself a cup. It was Folger's. I put in a small amount of granulated sugar and some non-dairy creamer. The coffee beans probably came from Central or South America. The granulated sugar probably came from the Belle Glade area of Florida. I have no idea about the non-dairy creamer. And if I give it too much thought right now, I'd probably be a little unnerved about it. If it's non-dairy ... then what is it made of and why am I putting it in my coffee?
[And the usual answer would be: because it was Folger's coffee and not Seattle's Best, Kona, or Godiva.]
Lunch
I made lunch right before I headed out to work. My Postal lunchbox (one of the personal Igloo coolers) has made a reappearance in my life, especially since I worked one too many full days where I only had 30 minutes to run out for a sandwich and get back to work.
Since it is Ash Wednesday, I wanted to keep with the whole "no red meat" thing on certain days of Lent. I packed a microwaveable Kraft Macaroni & Cheese, a peanut butter sandwich, a Capri Sun Pacific Cooler, and a small Strawberry Kiwi Gatorade.
Years ago, when I was a child, you could have 1 cool thing in your lunchbox or 1 warm thing, especially if your Thermos bottle was a wide-mouth. The milk would be cool, but not cold. Soup would be warm, but not hot. There were no freezer packs. There were no microwaves. There were no Ziplock lunch bags. I remember a world before the Spork. I remember being happy when technology developed to a point that Thermos bottles were made entirely of plastic, thus saving my poor ears from my mother's ranting when I came home and told her I broke another glass-lined Thermos.
My entire lunch today was made for a faster world than the one that existed when I was a child.
I microwaved my Mac & Cheese. I drank my cold Capri Sun. I ate my cool, but not cold peanut butter sandwich. I saved my Gatorade for the trip home, because I'm usually thirsty after running around doing the closing tasks. While I ate my sandwich and waited for my Mac & Cheese to cool down a bit, I played Texas Hold 'Em on my Blackberry to mentally distance myself from work for 30 minutes.
It wasn't a bland meal, but it wasn't anything to write home about, either. How many people are sacrificing taste and proper nutrition in their meals for time-saving convenience? And if they're saving all that time, why is everyone always rushing around?
Dinner
M and I decided to go back to planning our dinners, partly because of my Lenten choice. We've also been slagging off making proper meals these last few weeks. It's either Catch-As-Catch-Can or we run out to get something to eat, then come back home. It's one thing to eat while you're out running errands or if you plan on going out on a specific night.
Tonight's dinner was shrimp scampi (frozen shrimp) over angel hair pasta, French onion soup (Campbell's from a can) with a French baguette crouton and covered with a Provolone cheese, Rosemary and Sea Salt bread with Irish garlic and herb butter, and beverages. M had a Coke. I had a hard cider.
While I was making dinner, I thought once again about how the food was grown or harvested, how it was processed, and how we chose the menu. I started looking on the packages as to where they came from. The shrimp came a processing plant on the East coast of Georgia (probably from a trawler working the Atlantic in that area, too). The cider came from California. The pasta company is in Illinois.
Over dinner, M and I discussed how the food came to our table from the fields and the ocean. Neither one of us has any illusions about where our food comes from. We both spent part of our childhood in rural areas. My maternal grandmother grew up on a farm. My mother and her sisters had a truck farm to earn money when they were younger. One of my first memories was of sitting on the back porch at my maternal grandmother's house while she and Mom went out to the nearby strawberry field to pick berries. Mom could see us from the small field. Every so often, she would come over and give my sisters and I strawberries that she had just picked.
When I was older, we had a veggie patch out in the back yard. We had radishes, green beans, beets, cucumbers, and tomatoes. Grandma lived in an apartment, so she would share her veggie patch with one of my maternal aunts. (My aunt and uncle would supply the patch of land and do all the heavy work. Grandma did the planting, tended the crops, and generally supervised.) We would eat fresh vegetables for most of the summer, then everyone would can the rest of the harvest, so we could eat it during the Winter months. When the tomato harvest was exceptionally plentiful, Grandma made homemade ketchup and Mom would make up batches of homemade tomato sauce for use in lasagna and spaghetti.