Dear Foodie: So, I’m Not Betty Crocker. Deal With It!

Dear Foodie,

True confessions Dear Foodie: I don’t grow a garden, I don’t raise chickens in the backyard, or set my alarm for 2:00 a.m. to “turn” my artisanal cheese. But, I am interested in buying good food for my family. How do I fit into all this craziness about food?

Dear Hester,

Take down that scarlet letter! I am assuming that you also do not possess a bong, wear birkenstocks with business suits, and that you do indeed shave your legs (assuming you are a woman or a transvestite). It’s OK Hester. You are normal and remind me of myself, my motto being emblazoned on my apron: “So, I’m not Betty Crocker. Deal with it!” In fact, you represent the vast majority of people out there who truly want to be part of what is called the “local” food movement. We are not sure what “local” means, but its best meaning is to recognize the wisdom of caring about the origin of food and teaching our children that chickens really don’t have “fingers.” To do all that does not require that you plant a garden, raise chickens, or send your children to culinary kindergarden (a cooking class for children would be nice). You just have to roll up your sleeves, not to manhandle a rolling pin, but to get hold of all the information (some of it conflicting) about what food is all about. Eating is fundamental to life and the more you know, I’ll bet the quality of your life will be better. The food police are not going to come after you … though it was reported that Mayor Bloomberg of New York City was seen in your neighborhood rummaging through trash  to be sure you had not smuggled home one of those “big gulps” during a visit to the “big” city.

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