nutrition

I remember when kiwi fruit first appeared in our local grocery stores sometime around the early 1980s. The fuzzy brown globes quickly became a fad despite the inevitable jokes about donkey balls. (No, I can’t imagine who would have started a joke like that… *crosses fingers and stares at the ceiling, whistling innocently*)

Anyway, it wasn’t long before every fruit tray at every upscale gathering boasted slices of kiwi. It was exotic and sophisticated and the thing to serve! But to be honest, I’ve always had a love/hate relationship with kiwi fruit. When it’s good, it’s great… but there are so many ways it can be not-good.

If it’s the teeniest bit unripe, it’s sour with a lingering bitter edge that leaves your mouth puckered and your teeth furry. Too ripe, and it’s tasteless mush. Riper still, and the fermentation phase is interestingly fizzy; but I can’t say I recommend it.

If it’s been long enough since my last unpleasant experience, I occasionally buy some kiwis when they’re on sale. Which is how I came to be sitting at the breakfast table, cutting into one.

Hubby glanced over and said, “That looks very… green.”

I took a bite. “It’s not too bad, actually. The last batch I had was an exercise in sour misery, but this one’s okay.”

He frowned. “Why do you even bother?”

“Well, kiwi fruit has more Vitamin C than oranges.” I swallowed another virtuous mouthful. “And it’s very high in fibre.”

Hubby watched in thoughtful silence while I finished my kiwi. Then he asked, “What kind of fibre is in that septic-safe biodegradable toilet paper you buy?”

I blinked. “Uh…?”

“Because, you know,” he went on, “You could just eat clean toilet paper to get your fibre. It couldn’t taste any worse than that kiwi.”

“Except for the nutritional value,” I reminded him.

“Okay; eat the toilet paper, drink water, and take a vitamin pill.”

There was probably a rebuttal to that, but I couldn’t think of it. He’s right: Fruit is basically just cellulose fibre, water, and vitamins. (And flavour; but we’ve already established that kiwi flavour isn’t always an asset.)

I never thought I’d see the day when eating toilet paper seemed like a reasonable option…

P.S. I just found an article that made my day! I’ve occasionally been chastised by self-appointed Typography Police for my old-fashioned use of two spaces after a period. They’re adamant that “the only correct usage is a single space after a period”, but that ain’t necessarily so: https://www.fastcompany.com/90171175/science-just-settled-one-of-type-designs-oldest-debates. So maybe I don’t have to retrain my fingers after all. Hooray! 😀

Yes, it’s true. Beef is a vegetable, and today I’m going to give you a logical explanation as to why that’s so.

And as a special bonus, I’m going to address the age-old question posed by unhappy students ever since Plato and Aristotle started flapping their gums all those centuries ago: “When will I ever use these grand principles of logic in real life?”

The answer is ‘frequently’… if you have a devious mind and a burning desire to justify unhealthy nutritional choices.

Hubby and I have both.

Frankly, I was a lot happier when I thought the four basic food groups were sugar, salt, fat, and booze. But then I went and educated myself about proper nutrition, not realizing how that knowledge would cut into my enjoyment of the all the tastiest treats in life.

On my more cynical days, I figure cutting out all the best yummies won’t actually make me live longer; it’ll just seem like it. But since my main ambition is to not die of my own stupidity, I generally make an effort to eat well. And on the days when I don’t feel like doing that, I use logic to justify my poor food choices.

‘Cause, like, y’know, logic is like, all sophisticated and stuff, so that makes me feel smarter when I’m ingesting enough saturated fat to bung my arteries solid.

I’ve already discovered a few useful pre-rationalized vices. I’m sure just about everybody has seen the one about how chocolate comes from a bean, and beans are vegetables. And vegetables are healthy and an essential part of good nutrition, therefore it’s necessary to eat chocolate.

Or the one about how grapes are fruit, and wine is made from crushed grapes, therefore wine is just as healthy as fruit juice.

And barley sandwiches are a super-nutritious meal, too. (For those unfamiliar with barley sandwiches, the main ingredients in beer are barley and yeast, which are essentially the same ingredients as bread…)

If you think that’s a weak argument, never mind – I have a better one. Beer fights cancer, so it’s actually medicinal. And I just re-read that article and discovered that they consider a ‘healthy’ intake of beer to be up to two or three units a day for women. Dammit, I’ve been under-medicated! Bring on the beer!

But the people who thought up those rationalizations are rank amateurs compared to my husband. He has actually formulated a logic chain to justify eating gigantic quantities of steak:

Beef is a vegetable. And vegetables are healthy.

I did point out the food pyramid to him, indicating where there was a clear differentiation between meats and vegetables, but he just shook his head with the patient tolerance of a Zen scholar and proceeded to enlighten me.

“It’s simple,” he explained. “Cows eat grass. Grass is a vegetable. You are what you eat, so beef is a vegetable.”

I couldn’t argue with that even if I wanted to.

Is that the sweet, sweet smell of barbeque?