I've been watching my food a lot... Messed up as that seems. Being told that your thyroid is toast tends to mess up a love affair with food. So instead of mixing this and that, and making my glorious food inventions, I weigh, measure, analyze everything that goes into my oven or on my skillet.
My phone is my supervisor.
I have an app on my phone that gives me permission to eat or not to eat.
So instead of eating food, I watch it.
A little while ago, I decided to take a funny picture with Puck Lucipurr eating tuna out of a Martini glass with olives.
Regardless of the coaxing, the begging, the pleading, he wouldn't touch that stuff... With or with out the olives.
My oddball cat, who loved marinara sauce and onions would not touch a fresh can of tuna.
A few weeks ago, it was chicken breasts. Have you ever stared at chicken breasts?
I bought some rather large chicken breasts. They were too large to be real chicken breasts. And I bought some chicken fryers from a Carniceria down the road.
Sort of like Julia Childs, I carefully sliced that chicken down to just meat. And the chicken breast that I peeled from it's body was about one third the size of the pre-prepared chicken breasts I bought in a random bag from the supermarket.
Then I set them down beside each other and waited.
Slowly, the entire chicken breast from the fryer slowly turned grey after just sitting there for about 45 minutes.
The extra large, hybrid chicken breast turned grey around the edges, a lot slower, but basically stayed pink... for 2 hours.
Then the big questions hit me: Why do I need an 8 ounce chicken breast?
My phone was telling me that a 4 ounce chicken breast was a full serving. And it was trying to protect me from a world made of giant servings, super sizes, big gulps, second helpings, and all you can eat buffets.
And I had just discovered where they were hiding the GMOs... In the plastic bags with the 8 ounce chicken breasts.
I have been pretty lucky with produce... Until last Friday.
I picked out a bunch of organic bananas, but they were completely green and inedible. So I picked up a few non-organic to cover myself for emergencies.
The day before, I had eaten strawberries and tossed the leaves in the trash. Two days later, fruit flies were hanging out in my trash.
And on my bananas.
Let me clarify this, they were hanging out on my organic bananas, they weren't touching the non-organic bananas.
A scavenger bug having no interest in fruit.
What has this world come to that the food has become poison and the safe water has to come from bottles? Our sodas have more sugar in them than candy bars, and the fake reproduced milk has even more sugar.
Is the purpose of this fake world to create an obese society dependent on steroidal foods that induce premature puberty and cancer from putrid, saccharine-laced, drinkable urine?
Or is it just an easy way out?
Isn't that human nature? Why spend time preparing a meal with the right foods, when you can microwave everything instead?
Sad to say, that the younger generation has never experienced the true joy of pounding dough into submission, only to watch it gracefully rise in the oven as it bakes.
Have they ever planted a garden and harvested only to make the most mouth-watering salad on the face of this earth?
I have surrendered to the inevitable: I have to read every label, and even then, mistrust everything I read.
The government doesn't require that we mark the GMOs from the non-GMOs. The saccharine ingredients are listed in small enough print that we don't bother to read them, because it would slow us down.
My phone has been speaking words of wisdom to me for months, and with my eyes, my nose, my cat, and my noggin... and now I will now listen.