I've returned from a business trip and brief vacation in Europe. I'm struck by how people in Europe gather in common spaces such as parks for conversation or walks, rather than in shopping malls for consumption. There are more bicycles than people in the Netherlands. People in Europe don't seem to be out to prove something. In the song, What About Everything? the group Carbon Leaf sings about being "in search of some rest, in search of a break. From a life of tests where something's always at stake." Granted, it took Europe a long time to reach this point, and there's quite a bit of damage to others in their history, but even throughout their heyday, there was always the need to learn another language, observe another culture, and experience someone else's food. Someone else's real food.
The US is beginning to actively engage in reflection and conversation about food. Michael Pollan has written The Omnivore's Dilemma, which examines the "lineage" of four meals. It's disturbing, but not surprising, that it's almost impossible to determine the natural history of a happy meal from McDonald's. I'm sure the cows processed in the industrial production chain of McDonald's aren't too happy about those meals. The single point of failure with industrial food production has also resulted in a vulnerability or dependency that can affect large numbers of people or our furry friends. Think of the fast food restaurant problems with vegetables, or the pet food recall that's taking place right now.
Pollan recently wrote an article in the New York Times Magazine ("Unhappy Meals"). He describes an interesting journey in the US of the fascination, even obsession, with micro-nutrients. This view has culminated in the belief that if one can manage to eat the ideal combination and proportion of vitamins, minerals, and avoid the bad stuff like saturated fat, then, voila, one can become healthy. He offers a persuasive argument to eat real food, focusing on natural ingredients because, well, perhaps nature does know best. Or perhaps our adaption to nature over time has resulted in cuisines that actually acknowledge the best balance of local ingredients and our nutritional needs. Pollan begins his article with the following advice: "Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants."
Our (and I include myself in this) reluctance to follow this simple, yet powerful, advice has been fueled by the industrialization of food. As we have moved away from real food, we have correspondingly missed the taste of real food. There's an entire industry associated with artificial flavors. I find it disconcerting that I can close my eyes, smell something from a test tube, and imagine a bacon cheeseburger. Artificial flavors seem to found their true calling with sodas (or soft drinks or pop if you prefer). Just think about the number of variants of Coke. What started out as "new Coke" has now resulted in so many varieties of Coke that perhaps we've overwhelmed ourselves with choices (why is it that there are so many close associations of the words "choice" and "dilemma"?).
My wife has also noted that cheesification of food. There seems to be cheese generously applied to all types of food. Perhaps this happened during the Atkins Diet craze, or perhaps it's an attempt to surpass corn-based derivatives as the "natural" food flavoring additive. I'm sure if cheese can be added to enough food products, the dairy industry will be very happy. So it's occurred to me that there's an obvious conclusion: the happy convergence of high fructose corn syrup and cheese.
Cheese flavored Coke.
Ask for it the next time you supersize your meal at McDonalds.
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