After the Baby Carriage - by Rebecca Black
Cleaning Up The Kitchen
For as long as I can remember, I have had a love affair with food. I enjoy immersing myself in the pageantry of preparing food. I dream of cooking through entire cookbooks just for grins. And, I love to eat.
But, as with any affair of the heart, there are peaks and there are valleys. Creating a holiday white chocolate bread pudding with amaretto sauce and then sharing it with supper club friends—peak; South Beach Diet—valley. Virgin dinner at Jacques-Imo’s tucked away on a shady lane in NOLA—peak. SlimFast shakes—valley. But most of the time, food and I have skipped along hand in hand with very little discord.
However, about six months ago, I found myself at the bottom of one of those valleys with my two-year-old son perched upon my lap. We were reviewing results from a food sensitivities test that our doctors recommended we run on him a few weeks prior. As we scrolled through the categories — dairy, fruit, grains, etc. — it became apparent that meal time in our house was about to look very different. And, at first glance, different can be very scary.
We rolled into this valley after many doctor visits regarding my son’s eczema and constant skin irritation that had plagued him since birth. These skin flares always seemed to come with fun gastrointestinal treats, too—aka, very messy diapers. However, following two years of upset stomachs, constant scratching, and endless “he’ll grow out of it”s from our doctors, I decided we were tired of “growing out of it.” After research, visits with several nutritionists, and consults with our new pediatrician, we concluded that B might be suffering from mild allergies—or sensitivities—to food in his diet.
And, the rainbow-colored, bar-graphed results confirmed our suspicions. The colors that were jumping off the page lay beside some of our favorite food groups—dairy, eggs and peanuts. Tension grew between my shoulder blades as I considered taking these things out of his diet. What would he eat?! So many of his favorite foods had milk, eggs, or peanut butter/oil in them. It would be a challenge, but we were going to find other foods for him, and me, to love.
To begin our ascent from the valley, I dutifully started keeping food diaries of what the kids were eating so I could slowly phase out the problem foods and find appropriate substitutions. A phenomenal nutritionist served as our tour guide and slowly unveiled a world of much healthier eating…an overwhelming world, and I at once feared it as much as I would one day come to love it.
Other fears set in as I learned more about what was actually in the food that I was feeding my children—food dyes, preservatives, nitrates, etc. Up to this point, I was pretty proud of myself when it came to my children’s diets. We ate homemade breakfasts…with the occasional bowl of Cheerios. Chick-fil-A was the only fast food we ate…and not all that often. Veggies were being accepted bit by bit but not without a little struggle, typical for all toddlers. I bought low-sugar, low-fat shelf products and mostly organic produce and meats.
I could go on forever. Basically, I thought I was passing along healthy eating habits to my children. But, after shining a spotlight on our food—like the movie Food, Inc. did on America’s consumption culture, I realized I was wrong.
So, instead of just addressing my son’s food sensitivities, we (and by “we” I mean me—and my brilliant nutritionist) decided it was time to cleanse our diets completely. Again, this would be very different for me, but different was looking a little less scary.
My affair with food slowly began to sweeten again as I took our food back to the basics at home. I started selecting grocery stores based on the availability of organic produce, meats, and other whole homemade foods. Several of my friends were part of an organic food co-op and received weekly deliveries of locally farmed goods…I haven’t made that leap, yet, but I have become a huge supporter of local farmers’ markets.
Food is at its purest form at farmers’ markets and—if it’s a good one—the farmer is there to tell you all about it. While in Colorado this summer, Friday Farmers’ Market fed our family for the week. And, the kids and I would have “dates” to go to the market and pick out the food. Seeing all of the colors of the foods and getting to taste the goods deepened their love for healthy foods…and also showed them that I wasn’t the only mom in town not pedaling Goldfish crackers. Their favorite treat, hands down—raw honey combs! Now, raw honey replaces the “artificially sweetened” Log Cabin syrup that used to top our pancakes (which are now made with a ½ cup of ground flax meal…easy way to sneak some “good fats” into their diet).
The stress of this “back-to-basics” change gave way to delight in needing to spend more time in the kitchen with real ingredients and less time with “shelf products,” otherwise known as processed food. I love to prepare food…but let’s be real; life is a little too busy for lots of cooking, right? Not really. Most of the other “stuff” can wait.
My friend Kim inspired me to make the most of my time in the kitchen. She has cooking days—a day or two a week when she spends several hours in the kitchen preparing the week’s food for her family. With three kids under the age of five and no nanny/sitter, she gets it done. Sometimes the kids hang out and help and sometimes they hang out with Dora and Diego. Doesn’t matter. The food is healthy, prepared, frozen, and ready for meal times.
So, I now follow her lead and try to include my kids in the prep work, too. My daughter even uses a butter knife to cut her veggies for recipes…she did not inherit my patience. Our cooking together also seems to increase the likelihood that she and B will actually eat the healthy foods they’re given. And, it has opened up a dialogue between us about healthy versus not-so-healthy eating habits. So, when snacks are packed for school, she knows that the hummus and carrots aren’t just yummy; they are good for her, too.
Another inspiration in my quest for “healthier kitchen habits” comes from just south of my hometown. My friend Stephanie lives on a beautiful piece of land outside of St. Francisville, Louisiana, with her husband and two very active little boys. When I visited her a few years back, she was just starting a vegetable garden. Since then, she uses her garden to help feed her family—and neighbors when the harvest is abundant—and she teaches her boys a little along the way, too.
Her rules seem simple:
• 1. No pesticides…because the boys like to eat tomatoes from the vine…AND the whole point of growing your own food is controlling what toxins are placed on it or injected into it. Yes, there are worms…but can you imagine anything more fun for kids to find in a garden?!
• 2. Everyone helps…from the planting—kids love to dig—to the gathering for sauces (tomatoes), breads (zucchini), and snacks (cucumbers). She really includes her boys in the “basics” of what it takes to make a meal.
• 3. Share the rewards. Cook together, eat together, and pass along any of the extra garden goodness to your friends. The children learn to share the rewards of all of their labor.
Stephanie raves about the goodness that comes from having your own garden. So, I have a spot all picked out in our new backyard to start a garden for my family next year. Unlike Stephanie, I live in neighborhood inside a city. But all we need is some soil to water and (according to Stephanie) lots of sun. Seems we have that in cities, too.
Healthier living is becoming a way of life in my friends’ kitchens and now in mine, too.
The difference that comes with getting “back to the basics” is not so scary at all anymore. It is like revisiting a time when things were less rushed and food came from the heart and from the home. Brings back memories of sitting in my Grandma Dot’s kitchen or den and with my brothers and cousins digging through the brown bags of string beans, fresh from her and Papa’s garden, plopped right in each of our laps. We’d break off the ends, snap the beans, and chunk them in a nearby pan to be prepared for dinner. I remember thinking, “What a bore!” But, that’s just it…I remember it. What a healthy way of life she was modeling for us.
My daughter still wonders where her Goldfish went…she really loved those snacks! But, she knows that Rice Chips are a better choice. Sure, I still get the “I’m not going to eat that squash” look. But, I’m no short-order-cook, so they know that what they see is all that’s being served. And, some nights, they go to bed a bit hungry. Eventually, though, they eat the squash—even if it’s a month later.
Teaching my children to love food…the right foods…is one of the best gifts I can give them. And, all this forced self-reflection may be making me a better mother—in the kitchen, at least.
