I’ve managed to be cold-free for something like fourteen years now and really do not plan on succumbing to the one currently flooring the hub and kids; so this morning I did what any sensible person should do and went shopping!
Don’t panic, I’ve not been hit with an attack of spontaneous materialism, it was a purely survivalist excursion to nowhere more exotic than Lidl! Don’t judge me, though; I do not have the constitution to fight off pensioners at the market and Lidl’s is very much the next best thing in terms of gathering fruit and veg which can be eaten on the day of purchase – besides which, the benefit-bound aren’t even out of bed yet, so I can head there without fear of encountering any unsavouries! So I have stocked up on plenty of vitamin loaded, virus beating yummies and am now enjoying a (rather late) breakfast of hot buttered toast, grapefruit and ‘proper’ chocolate (94% cocoa - because I am hardcore!!)
And much like floating in an oarless canoe toward a waterfall, I now drift effortlessly towards my point:
Just who was it who made the decisions as to how we should eat certain foods? I don’t mean people coming up with recipes, but the real stuff – things we eat with minimal interference besides chopping, peeling etc.
Why do we play at the Giant’s teaparty eating grapefruit with a tiny spoon whilst we segment oranges of the same size to eat with our hands?
Why is it considered appropriate to sprinkle sugar over a grapefruit and eat it, whilst equally unpalatable fruits such as lemons are resigned to the rank of ingredient/decoration?
Who decided pineapple and coconut were worth the effort needed to reach the flesh?
Who declared the grapefruit a breakfast food, tomato and cucumber to be used for salads and squashes to be vegetables?
And most importantly, who the hell ever thought a piece of fruit could constitute dessert?
These are the things I found myself pondering over whilst packing away my purchases and painstakingly scoring my grapefruit.
In fact, I was reminded a few days ago of being given my first pomegranate as a youngster. As baby and I walked home from school, we caught up with the little girl next door. She was eating one as she walked (hence her being so slow that we caught up with her!) and baby asked her “Are you using a spoon?” “No, it’s a pomegranate fork!” – Actually, it was a chip-shop fork, but I’ll let her off since the poor girl has probably never seen the inside of a chippy! It seemed a strange thing though to give a child as part of their packed lunch… what ten year old has the stamina to eat a pomegranate? I was probably around twelve when I first saw one and was given a threaded needle with which to eat it. We were hardcore beach scavengers, ‘catching’ a lot of winkles and such so eating with a needle wasn’t a big deal but nevertheless I soon bored of the repetitive process: choose, spike, eat, choose, spike, eat, choose, spike, drop… it seemed unending and eventually I just couldn’t be bothered so had an apple instead. Coming from the home of “waste not, want not” though, my fruit was placed in the breadbin and I was expected to return to it as often as necessary until it was gone; day three, I cast it over the garden wall to ‘feed the birds’ living in the trees beyond because nothing is worth that much effort!
But anyway – such ponderings have me lusting after a strong cup of tea and I still have to complete those reviews I have promised you all. (Plus I am working on a contingency in case I should find myself floored by this strain!)
That and you find when there is a case of flu within the household that people visit less and "Can't stay". Add a second patient and they will only chat on the doorstep until by victim number four you are completely in quarantine... so knowing my time will be my own for a couple of days at least I should also have time for another read of this:
Did I mention, it's a great book ?! ...
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