The (artichoke) heart of the matter.
“Frittering money on pretentious organics!”
If you’ve ever had a parent to stay, you’ve had your habits as a consumer examined. Recently, The Bad Hostess enjoyed a lengthy visit from her papa. Yes, we had a marvellous time boosting the filial bond. Yet, when it came to the What’s For Dinner conversation, that link became a little knotty.
Fortunately, Dad and I share an eagerness to scoff Ga Xoi Mo, Pho, Goi Cuon and, indeed, anything picked from the artful grill of Vietnam. With the possible exception of blood tofu. Can’t quite get my gums around that one, yet.
When it came to the order of my pantry, however, not all was so harmonious.
Where possible and affordable, I prefer to purchase organic or biodynamic food. Dad, in typical fashion, wanted me to provide a rationale for a choice that adds circa 20% to my weekly food costs.
The argument that organic food is better for you, unfortunately, bears little scientific merit. That there are (a) significant fewer nutrients or (b) toxic levels of pesticides in conventional produce are not yet borne out by research. Even if common sense dictates that a happy cow or a relatively unfettered ear of corn might be better to consume, science has nothing conclusive to say.
So Dad wasn’t swayed by my fact-free hippie bleating. He was more coerced by the plausible presence of little happy and ancient microbes that may bolster the immune system. He began to see my reason when I suggested that containing the gigalitres of chemicals was possibly beneficial not only for soil fitness but for the health of agricultural workers.
Finally, he was affected by the notion of supporting small producers. This wins parents every time.
Actually, I was glad that he impelled me to provide a rationale. Often my shopping “decisions” are not really choices at all but Pavlovian responses to marketing genius. Woof.
I shall seek out the root vegetable of all evil and bake it in organic olive oil.
If you’ve ever had a parent to stay, you’ve had your habits as a consumer examined. Recently, The Bad Hostess enjoyed a lengthy visit from her papa. Yes, we had a marvellous time boosting the filial bond. Yet, when it came to the What’s For Dinner conversation, that link became a little knotty.
When it came to the order of my pantry, however, not all was so harmonious.
Where possible and affordable, I prefer to purchase organic or biodynamic food. Dad, in typical fashion, wanted me to provide a rationale for a choice that adds circa 20% to my weekly food costs.
The argument that organic food is better for you, unfortunately, bears little scientific merit. That there are (a) significant fewer nutrients or (b) toxic levels of pesticides in conventional produce are not yet borne out by research. Even if common sense dictates that a happy cow or a relatively unfettered ear of corn might be better to consume, science has nothing conclusive to say.
So Dad wasn’t swayed by my fact-free hippie bleating. He was more coerced by the plausible presence of little happy and ancient microbes that may bolster the immune system. He began to see my reason when I suggested that containing the gigalitres of chemicals was possibly beneficial not only for soil fitness but for the health of agricultural workers.
Actually, I was glad that he impelled me to provide a rationale. Often my shopping “decisions” are not really choices at all but Pavlovian responses to marketing genius. Woof.
I shall seek out the root vegetable of all evil and bake it in organic olive oil.
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