The Best Stuff on Earth

My family recently went organic. Or at least, as organic as we could without becoming total granola freaks. What this means is that we pay twice market value for standard items like milk and bananas. And they go bad faster. The upside is that we get the warm fuzzy feeling that we are doing good things for the planet and our kids.

The first issue with organics is finding good stuff. This is still America and we do still have to make it to soccer in the evenings, so we aren’t going to spend our weekends grinding our own graham flour. And, while I read that this is the idyllic life they live in Spain, I do not take a leisurely bike ride home and pick up fresh bread, tomatoes and vegetables on the way home from work. We have to buy some things ready to go.

The second issue is that I’m having a hard time calculating out the real value of organics. I mean, the Kroger with the good organic produce is seven miles further away than the Publix with only a little organic stuff. There is another Kroger closer, but as I look at the near dead fruit, the produce folks smile and say “The spots are because it’s organic!” No crap, what about the rot? Personally, I need my bananas to last at least twenty-four hours before they go to seed. So how do I calculate the negative value of all the extra driving? I mean not only is the place further away, but we have to go twice as often because “it’s organic!”

This is all tempered, of course, by the very real fear that the non-organic bread in the pantry could last a year without growing mold, and that’s just WRONG. Even Disney has acknowledged this: Wall-E’s only friend is a cockroach who lives on still-fresh twinkies eight-hundred years into the future.

The third issue is: How do you know if something is good for you? My general rule of thumb is that if I can’t identify the ingredients then I shouldn’t eat them. Then again, I have a lot of years of college Chemistry and BioChem under my belt, so I realize this isn’t the best course of action for everyone. But let’s face it: the FDA has no recommended Daily Allowance of FD&C Red #40 or Xantham Gum. (What is Xantham Gum? I seriously don’t know.)

To be honest, we all know some of the jargon, so it’s just an issue of what you do with the knowledge. For example, ‘fat-free’ means ‘we have replaced the fat in this product with something akin to plastic.’ ‘All-natural’ means nothing! Hell, plastic is all natural. Petroleum products originated on earth. Only glowing things extracted from meteors are banned from using this term. The question is: do you refuse to buy these things?

‘Heart smart’ can be really bad. It means there is increased fiber. But what else has been increased? Usually sugar. And sugar (usually in the guise of high fructose corn syrup) is the way the devil will steal your soul. It’s everywhere. Places you wouldn’t even suspect. Like tomato sauce! Bet the last time you had spaghetti you were thinking, ‘hey, this sauce just isn’t sweet enough.’ It’s in those plastic cases of deli meats that are sold next to the baloney and in your very bland Wheaties. Diabetes, anyone?

At least when you read the label you can see ‘high fructose corn syrup’ right there at the beginning of the ingredient list. You may be surprised, but you can put the box back on the shelf and get something else. What about the things you can’t identify? Sure, Lake Blue 40 looks like a bad idea, put it back! But what about Cochineal? My friends and I are geeks, so we had the Merck index handy (Merck lists scientific chemicals). Cochineal is a red coloring made from crushed bug abdomens and eggs. Seriously, that’s disgusting. And it’s in your food. Hey, at least it’s ‘all-natural’, right?

You can take your sigh of relief here and say to yourself, ‘well, I’m sure I didn’t eat any of that’. No, you probably drank it. Guess where! Snapple! Made from the best stuff on earth.