I admit that I’m not a health nut. That’s not a big surprise to those of you who know me, but along with my disdain for most vegetables, I have an equal level of contempt for well-meaning attempts to get me to “just try it.” I’ve already tried it; that’s how I know I don’t like it. I’m old and have had to eat a lot of stuff I didn’t want to, starting with those disgusting strained peas that my mother mostly failed to get me to swallow as a small child. Of course, I don’t remember those times, but evidently my reactions are the stuff of family legend.
Few foods come out the same color as they go in, but as almost every mom and some brave dads can testify, strained peas do. Curiously, as an adult I kinda like canned peas if there’s enough butter, onion, bacon, salt and pepper on them. As a guide in case you are wondering, my butter needs are simple: Land O’ Lakes salted, four-sticks-to-the-pound, real dadgum butter. I get to decide how much is enough, too. Enough about peas.
If I am being badgered to eat something as foul and distasteful as, say, Brussels sprouts, I’m likely to hear, “Oh, just leave the old man alone. He won’t eat that. He’ll just get angry and go get a PayDay bar out of his truck.” And as for those gut-wrenching little poop-bombs, in my view, the only thing that makes them better is a 9-iron. The things people do, however creative, to try to hide the odor and disgusting taste does not work on these weeds. Please stop. If you must cook the damned things, in the name of all that is holy, do it outside.
To know in advance how distasteful a particular vegetable is, pay close attention to its recipe. Sometimes, the list of herbs, spices, rubs, sauces, dressings, condiments, perfumes, proteins, potions, eye of newt and magical incantations used to try to make the plant in question palatable is absurd, not to mention expensive. Think about it: Most vegetables are just carriers for other stuff that tastes way better.
The lowly potato is just a canvas until we add the colorful flavors of salt, pepper, garlic, basil, chives, butter, sour cream, bacon — well, the list of possibilities is nearly endless. And essential. Yes, dear, potatoes ARE vegetables.
Other stuff beyond vegetables has crept into my house under the guise of “healthier food.” Stuff that sounds like it should be really tasty has morphed down to an unexpected, even revolting, mouth experience. Remember when we were first introduced to yogurt? There were all kinds of fruit flavors and it was wonderful. Smooth, creamy, with bits of fruit (or something like it) floating around in it made for an enjoyable snack. Ya know what happened? Greek yogurt happened.
I was asked to pick up some plain Greek yogurt. I won’t mention the brand because that wouldn’t be fair. There were to be some blueberries to go with it and some honey. I was thinking I could have just grabbed a couple of thimble-size containers of blueberry Yoplait, but that wasn’t my mission, so I came home with a barrel of Fage Greek plain yogurt. Forget I said that.
The first thing I noticed was the consistency. It was exactly that of spackle that has sat on my work bench for a few years. At first, stirring was not possible, as I broke several paint sticks before switching to an old piece of broom handle. Adding blueberries and honey brought production to a halt, so I retrieved a 2-inch spade bit from the garage and mounted it in my 1/2-inch Milwaukee drill to see if I might get this mess mixed up some. When I pulled the trigger and the lights dimmed, I decided to serve it as is.
The boss pronounced it “very good.” In the interest of science, in order to understand its natural flavor, I licked the spoon used to dig the yogurt out of the carton and wondered what makes people want to eat this foul-tasting stuff. If you want to eat blueberries and honey, why not just do that? They’re pretty good; just ask any of your bear friends. I was OK with the old Yoplait, too.
But back to health issues. I fear it is too late for me to join the health parade even if I wished to. Judging by the “personalized” ads on my PC and phone, I seem to be already pegged as toxic and unhealthy. While I freely admit that those adjectives might well apply to my attitude, I don’t think of myself as toxic in the true sense of the word. However, if it were possible, it would be my weapon of choice. Unhealthy, at my age, comes and goes, and at some point will leave for good. But from what I hear, toxic can hang around forever, and I’m already working up a target list just in case.