The actual book that changed the course of our family. I love William Dufty’s dedication. To Billie Holiday whose death changed my life and Gloria Swanson whose life changed my death.
In 1977 Donny picks up a book in the grocery store. The title intrigues me. I start reading. My eyes get bigger and bigger. We are being sold a bill of goods. Sugar. More sugar. Everywhere you look sugar has been blatantly added to foods. Not just foods you would expect but foods like crackers, bread, flavorings, salad dressing, ketchup, peanut butter for crying out loud. I balk. “That’s enough!”
I go through our kitchen cabinets throwing everything out that has any sugar in it. My family is not going to be hoodwinked. And worse, trance induced by a legal drug. Up to that point we ate reasonable well but with no real thought to content beyond a balanced diet. We ate Fruit Loops, drank Tang, snacked on M&M’s along with our farm veggies, fruits and shared meat slaughters.
But throwing out anything with sugar in it is only my start. I am on a mission. I get books that advise us how red meat is nothing but a rotting mess in a human digestive tract. Fine for dogs, cats, most four legged animals with short simple intestines but not healthy for people. Out goes red meat. I read on. White meat is better but not by much. Out goes poultry. Seafood is acceptable but living so far from the source we rarely buy any. When Donny brought home Sugar Blues, Donald’s third birthday was approaching. No exceptions. I make a carrot cake sweetened with honey. Holidays see dried fruits and maple sugar as their food treats. With a, gotcha Mom, grin Emily & Donald now confess that friends at school would sneak them ice cream. We have honey flavored ice cream at home but it is a very special treat.
I am not done yet, not by a long shot. In come more books. Books on healthy life style eating. Brewer’s yeast, but only with balanced B vitamins, is the gold standard, so of course my family has to partake. The health benefits cannot be denied but the taste can. We all loath it but I soldier on. Down a spoonful and chase it with juice, mix it in a shake, nothing disguises the flavor. The family all time favorite method to despise is bite size yeast balls I make with peppermint oil. I do not recall when I stop this fanatical bend but I can tell you to this day no one can even mention the stuff without slightly retching.
This march to health lasts for years until we move. Emily & Donald still chide me about how soft I was on Stephen & Andrew. They got to bake with brown sugar and chocolate chips. I had gone soft. But never would I buy a sugary snack. Okay maybe Virgil’s (our builder) amazing donuts from his bakery Rollin’n Dough. Blame that on the duplex with a stove that made a campfire look first class.
But once we get into our house, if they want it, they have to bake it. And Lewis. Well, he was a lost cause. By his time organic white sugar has seeped into our lives. And it still has a place at the table. But even now more baking goes on than store purchasing. And we do prefer buying items with recognizable ingredients.
We did have some awesome food sources doing my vigilante years. Farm fresh eggs from a local farmer who also supplied us with fresh milk from his handful of cows. He was not in the market. Only family and friends of family got to stop by his farm, drop off empty bottles in the barn with a pig sty close by and pick up a new supply, all on the honor system. We got raw honey by the gallons from a bee supplier. As wonderful as these were none went into the babies mouths until they were past the recommended twelve months old mark.
When Emily & Donald get to talking about the yeast ball days, I remind them how healthy they were and are. Trips to the doctor just didn’t happen. Sure they picked up this and that coming down the pike but only mild cases.
The down side? There is none. The up side, besides great health? Awesome war stories.
Here we are during those if you want it bake it years
