It’s hard to say when it all began, but things definitely got worse after I attended a conference in Boston last April. Though the focus was on the impact of marketing to children, I was with activists from many overlapping areas including food.
It wasn’t long after, that I began to feel a bit restless in my kitchen But what was it? Where was it coming from? Was it:
- The lead in the water and ice?
- The pesticides in and on the fruits and vegetables?
- The hormones and antibiotics in the milk, cheese, yogurt and ice cream?
- The hormones, antibiotics and/or nitrates in the beef, chicken and lunch meat?
- The carcinogens in the black stuff on the grilled meat?
- The mercury in the fish?
- The dyes in the desserts?
- The additives and preservatives in the processed foods?
- The hormone disruptors from the plastic containers, cooking utensils, cutting boards and food packaging,
- The toxins in the cleaning solutions,
- The toxic gases from my old overheated frying pans, or
- The radiation from the microwave.
What could I do? Abstaining from food, water and air wasn't an option. Neither was delving into the research. Instead of definitive answers, I‘d only find more reasons to fear my kitchen.
So I did what I always do when I’m in a pickle (I didn't even mention the risks associated with pickling), I started to make a piece of art; an installation of sorts. My goal was simple. I'd make my kitchen, cooking items and food enjoyable for me to look at.
I already loved the look of the some wooden cooking utensils my husband had bought me. These simple utilitarian items would be the start to my finding peace in the kitchen.
Minimize Plastic
After noticing a plastic spatulas and spoon were detracting from my lovely wooden ones, I sent them off. The plastic cutting boards were next. Dangerous or not, I didn't like how the plastic looked, especially next to food. And since I was making a piece of visual art, how something looked was my guiding force.
Gradually, I replaced the plastic storage containers with glass ones. I use these in the refrigerator, freezer, pantry and microwave. I even serve in them for our nightly meals. The four round sizes stack easily and because the tops match, I'm never searching for lids. (Yes, the lids are plastic. I consider them symbols of compromise). All of this leads me to the greatest thing about my glass containers - I can see my food; the cut vegetables, fruit, nuts and even left overs. I love that. Before they were forgotten behind foggy plastic.
The most recent plastic to be dismissed were the chip clips. Wooden clothes pins have taken their place. If this is all sounding extreme...it is. And I'm becoming extremely happy in my kitchen.
My mother never liked when someone put a bottle of ketchup, canned drink or anything packaged on a table she set. "Does it really matter?" some might ask. It really does! I've even extended this thinking to my pantry and refrigerator. When I come home from the store, many of the groceries go straight into my celebrated glass containers. This act connects me to my food. And when I look in my refrigerator or pantry, instead of seeing pictures of food on boxes and bags, I see actual food. All this has heightened my respect. Not only do I waste less, I also buy less processed and buy more whole foods than ever before.
Highlight Food
Just one point on food presentation. Before I held food in such high regard, I liked colorful dishes. Now I prefer simple white or clear dishes (0r wooden bowls) which highlight the true colors of the food.
Use Colorful Food
My meals used to have a lot of "white stuff"- sugar, white rice, pasta and bread and potatoes. But this is not where the color is at and I'm making art here. So now I prepare a wider range of colorful fruits and vegetables. I've also gradually transitioned my family to the "brown stuff" - whole grain rice, bread and pasta. It has been surprisingly easy. Even the American Dietetic Association recently encouraged everyone to "Eat Right with Color." I don't think they were talking about the artificial kind.
My husband would add, “French pastries are beautiful too. And so is chocolate.” We definitely still enjoy a completely refined treat. Only now it's more of a treat.
Since these changes, I do buy more organic, especially those in the Environmental Working Group's "Dirty Dozen" - a list of fruits and vegetables with the highest concentration of pesticides. (They have a "Clean Thirteen" list too). I also buy organic for items we eat regularly such as milk and eggs.
About the water and air:
My concerns about water relate to the fact that we live in a 100 year old house with old pipes, and have a young child. The water filter now on our kitchen faucet, at the very least gives me some peace of mind. As do the two new pans.
About the aesthetics of meat: As much as I'd like to simply overlook this issue, I have to admit, it 's unlikely that my kitchen can be truly beautiful to me, as long as I'm eating and preparing meat. If anything, my growing connection and respect for food has moved me farther on the path to becoming a vegetarian. I'm not there yet.
Lessons Learned:
The lessons from my kitchen have been abundant. I’ve found that a scenic view doesn’t have to cost more. What we save by wasting less, eating out less, and buying less meat and processed food offsets the cost of the few new kitchen items and the organic food. I’ve learned that by focusing on aesthetics, we're eating healthier and have addressed most of the real and imagined risks that had kept me unsettled. Lastly, I’ve learned that instead of living in fear, we can create a life closer to what Mother Nature intended - one as real and whole, like our food.